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BOOKS BY RALPH D. PAINE 

Published by CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 

Sandy Sawyer, Sophomore. Illustrated, 


12mo 

$1.50 

The Stroke Oar. Illustrated, 12mo . . . 

$1.50 

The Fugitive Freshman. Illustrated, 12mo 

$1.50 

The Head Coach. Illustrated, 12mo . . 

$1.50 

College Years. Illustrated, 12mo . . . 

$1.50 

The Wrecking Master. Illustrated, 12mo 

$1.25 

A Cadet of the Black Star Line. Illus- 


trated, 12mo 

$1.25 


THE WRECKING MASTER 














































































* 


























































> 








































































¥ 



“ You’re working for Jim Wetherly ” 



THE 

WRECKING MASTER 


By 

RALPH D. PAINE 

Author of “ A Cadet of the Black Star Line,” “ The Fugitive 
Freshman,” “The Head Coach,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

GEORGE VARIAN 


NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 
1911 


Copyright, 1911, by 
Charles Scribner’s Sons 


Published September, 1911 



©Cl. A293926 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I. A Skipper in Bad Company .... 3 

II. The Resolute Fathoms the Plot ... 21 

III. The Race for the Kenilworth 40 

IV. Wicked Mr. Pringle in Collision . . 59 

V. “All Hands Abandon Ship” .... 75 

VI. Dan Frazier’s Predicament .... 93 

VII. A Fat Engineer to the Rescue . . . no 

VIII. A Fog of Suspicions 128 

IX. The Broken Hawser 149 

X. Dan’s Dreams Come True .... 168 

V 







ILLUSTRATIONS 


“You’re working for Jim Wetherly” .... Frontispiece 

Facing 

page 

And with Bill McKnight’s assistance the derelict was hauled 


aboard like a large and dripping fish 6 

The Sombrero sailed like a witch in the race 34 L 

But for once that square-jawed uncle of his had dared too 

much 84 u ' 

Dan felt a new thrill of surprise and alarm 104 

It was a pretty bit of old-fashioned boarding for the pro- 
saic twentieth century 120 

“ If you are going to call me a liar at the start, you won’t 

get very far!” . . 132 


150 


She looked as if she had laid her bones on the Reef for 
good and all 









THE WRECKING MASTER 




\ 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


CHAPTER I 

A SKIPPER IN BAD COMPANY 

“ A thick night and no mistake, Dan. IPs as 
black as the face of a Nassau pilot. We ought to 
be nearing the coal wharf by now. Of course 
they wouldn’t have sense enough to leave a light 
on it to give us our bearings.” 

Captain Jim Wetherly was growling through 
the window of the darkened wheel-house to his 
deck-hand, young Dan Frazier, as the ocean- 
going tug Resolute felt her way up the harbor of 
Pensacola. She had towed a dismasted bark 
into port after a long and stubborn tussle with 
wind and sea, and her master was in haste to fill 
the empty bunkers and drive her home to Key 
West, five hundred miles across the blue Gulf. 

The mate and several of the crew had gone 
ashore for the evening, the fat and grizzled chief 
3 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


engineer was loafing on the deck below, and Cap- 
tain Wetherly was somewhat consoled to have a 
sympathetic listener in his youngest deck-hand. 
This Dan Frazier was his nephew, not long out of 
the Key West High School, and trying his hand 
at seafaring in the Resolute as the first chance 
which had offered to ease his mother’s task of 
caring for him. 

In the presence of any of the vessel’s company, 
discipline was observed between the two with 
a respectful “aye, aye, sir,” or “no, sir,” on 
Dan’s part, but now when they were alone on 
deck Dan felt free to reply: 

“It’s strange water to me, Uncle Jim. I 
shouldn’t wonder if the old Resolute felt timid 
about poking around a crowded harbor on a 
thick night. What she likes best is plenty of 
sea-room with a wreck piled hard and fast on the 
Florida Reef and a fighting chance to pull it off. 
I wish I could have been on board when you 
were taking hold of that big Italian steamer last 
spring. The men say they thought the Resolute 
was going to yank the engines clean out of her 
before you let go on the last haul that dragged 
the wreck clear of the Reef. Is it true that Bill 
4 


A SKIPPER IN BAD COMPANY 


McKnight clamped the safety-valve down and 
said it was up to Providence to see that his boil- 
ers didn’t blow up?” 

Captain Wetherly chuckled. The flare of a 
match as he relighted his pipe illumined a pair 
of steadfast gray eyes and a smooth-shaven chin 
of such dogged squareness of outline that Dan’s 
statements seemed to be half-way answered even 
before his uncle said: 

“Pshaw, boy, Bill McKnight is a good chief 
engineer, but if his engines didn’t get any more 
rest than that tongue of his, they would have 
been in the scrap-heap long ago. I suppose he 
has been filling you up with yarns of the wonder- 
ful things he has done with this boat on the Reef. 
Come to think of it, he was carrying some steam 
more than the law allowed when we tackled that 
Italian wreck for the last time, but we weren’t 
there for our health. And wrecking isn’t a 
business for children, Dan. You’ll find that out 
if you stick by me long enough to get your mate’s 
papers. Seems to me we must have run past 
that confounded coal wharf by this time. I 
don’t know whether that light yonder is a lantern 
or a store up the street somewhere.” 

5 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Dan went over to the side of the deck and 
peered into the shoreward gloom while Captain 
Wetherly jerked a bell-pull. A mellow clang 
floated from the engine-room, the Resolute slack- 
ened way to half-speed, and began to swing in 
toward the puzzling light. Dan Frazier thought 
he heard the click of rowlocks somewhere off 
in the darkness and cocked an ear to listen. 
The sound ceased and then he fancied he saw 
a shadowy patch moving on the water almost in 
front of the Resolute's bow. An instant later 
Captain Wetherly shouted in alarm: 

“Boat ahoy. Do you want to be run under ? ” 

Angry, confused voices were raised from the 
blackness close ahead while the tug quivered to 
the thrust of the engines as they strove to check 
her headway. Panic-stricken profanity was vol- 
leyed from the water, there was a slight shock and 
crash as of splintered planking, and the tug slid 
over what remained of the blundering small boat. 

“Great Scott !” cried Captain Jim. “The 
poor fools must have done it a-purpose. When 
they come up and yell, stand by to fish ’em out, 
Dan. Tell Bill McKnight to man a boat and 

be ready to lower it. Of all the ” 

6 



And with Bill McKnight’s assistance the derelict was hauled 
aboard like a large and dripping fish 
































































































































































A SKIPPER IN BAD COMPANY 


The horrified Dan had already scampered 
down to the main-deck and, snatching up a coil 
of heaving line, he sprang upon the guard-rail 
and waited for a call for help from the castaways. 
The chief engineer was bawling commands to a 
fireman and the cook who were fumbling with the 
falls of a boat swung aft. The galley boy came 
rushing along with a lantern and Dan held it 
over the side just in time to see a head bob to 
the foaming surface with a gurgling lament: 

“ Aren’t you going to haul me aboard your 
murderin’ tow-boat ?” 

Dan tossed him a bight of the line into which 
he wriggled his shoulders and with Bill Mc- 
Knight’s assistance the derelict was hauled 
aboard like a large and dripping fish. They did 
not waste time in looking him over, but asked in 
the same breath: 

“How many more of you?” 

“Only one, and he can’t be far off,” panted 
the victim of the collision. “You’ll hear him 
holler pretty soon unless you knocked his brains 
out when you struck us.” 

The boat was ready by this time, and Dan and 
the cook, letting it down by the run, scrambled 
7 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


in and shoved clear of the tug. They had pad- 
died only a little way astern when the lantern 
threw its wavering gleam athwart the missing 
man, who was groaning as if hurt, while he 
tried with feeble splashing to keep himself afloat. 
With great exertion he was dragged over the 
gunwale and taken to the Resolute. He was 
unable to stand on deck and blood was ooz- 
ing from a ragged gash on his forehead. The 
engineer helped carry him into his own state- 
room a few steps away on the lower deck, where 
the wet clothing was stripped from him and the 
bunk made ready. 

Meanwhile, Captain Wether ly, relieved to 
learn that no lives were lost, rang up speed and 
headed the tug for what he hoped might be the 
wharf he was seeking. Presently Dan Frazier 
reported at the wheel-house door and ex- 
plained : 

“ You won’t be any more surprised than I was 
to find out that the first man we picked up is 
Jerry Pringle. Yes, it’s old Pringle himself sure 
enough, Uncle Jim. I didn’t get time for a 
sight of him until just now. What in the world 

is he doing so far from Key West, and how did he 
8 


A SKIPPER IN BAD COMPANY 


happen to be run down in a boat at night in 
Pensacola harbor ? It beats me.” 

“What has he got to say for himself?” 
snapped Captain Jim with a note of hostility 
and suspicion in his voice. “Is he sober? And 
Jerry Pringle let a tow-boat waltz right over 
him! Um-mm, he must have been mighty busy 
thinking about something else. Who is the 
other fellow? Ever see him before?” 

“No, sir. He’s an Englishman, I think, a 
big, strong man with a brown beard. He is 
pretty well knocked out and his wits were mud- 
dled by a thump on the head. He talks flighty. 
Jerry Pringle is with him and says he will fetch 
him around without our help and get him ashore 
as soon as we land.” 

“Well, there’s the coal-pocket looming up 
ahead, and you’d better get aft to make a line 
fast, Dan,” observed the captain. “As soon as 
we dock, I’ll step down and see what I can do 
for our passengers. They’re welcome to stay 
aboard overnight. Jump lively.” 

While the Resolute was deftly laid alongside 
the head of the wharf, Dan made a flying leap 
to the string-piece and dragged the hawsers 
9 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


to the nearest pilings, bow and stern. Then he 
hurried back to the chief engineer’s room in quest 
of more information about the strange and un- 
willing visit of Mr. Jeremiah Pringle of Key West. 

Dan Frazier knew him as one of the most 
daring and successful wreckers of the Florida 
Reef, that cruel, hidden rampart of coral which 
stretches in the open sea for a hundred and 
fifty miles along the Atlantic coast of southern 
Florida, on the edge of the great highway of 
ocean traffic for Central and South America. 
Because the Gulf Stream flows north along 
this crowded highway, the steamers and sailing 
craft bound south skirt the Reef as close as they 
dare in order to avoid the adverse current. 
Tall, spider-legged, steel light-houses rise from 
the submerged Reef, but its ledges still take 
their yearly toll of costly vessels, as they have 
done for centuries. When such disasters hap- 
pen, the wreckers flock seaward to try to save 
the ship and cargo. 

Jerry Pringle was one of the last of a famous 
race of native wrecking masters of Key West. 
His father and grandfather were wreckers be- 
fore him, and they had been hard and godless 

IO 


A SKIPPER IN BAD COMPANY 


men, rejoicing in the tidings of disaster on 
the Reef as a chance to plunder and destroy. 
Rumor had said some curious things about 
this Jeremiah Pringle’s methods as a wrecking 
master, but Dan Frazier gave them careless 
heed, partly because he had heard so many 
wicked tales of the by-gone wrecking days, but 
more because young Barton Pringle, the only 
son of this man, was his dearest chum and 
school-mate. 

With very lively curiosity Dan halted in the 
doorway of the little state-room which Captain 
Jim Wetherly had entered just before him. 
Jeremiah Pringle was sitting on the edge of the 
bunk as if to shield his comrade of the small 
boat from observation, and was gruffly caution- 
ing him not to exert himself by trying to talk. 
Captain Wetherly was eying them both with 
the keenest interest reflected in his determined 
countenance. He was saying as Dan came 
within earshot: 

“Of course I am very sorry it happened, 
Pringle, but I don’t see how you can hold me 
responsible for the loss of your boat. My lights 
were in order and the vessel was moving at half 

ii 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


speed. I’m sure your friend there, the master 
of the Kenilworth , lays it to your own care- 
lessness.” 

“Who said he was master of the Kenil- 
worth ?” spoke up Jerry Pringle. “You seem 
to be taking a whole lot of things for granted. 
He’s in no shape to deny it, so call him what 
you please.” 

Mr. Pringle looked unhappy and not all at 
ease, nor had he any thanks to spare for his 
rescue. Even Dan could perceive how thor- 
oughly disgusted he was over this unlucky meet- 
ing with Captain Wetherly who replied: 

“Oh, yes, it is Captain Bruce of the Kenil- 
worth , that big English cargo steamer in the 
stream loaded with naval stores for London. 
He was pointed out to me in the broker’s office 
this afternoon. Were you coming ashore from 
his ship when you ran under my bows?” 

Hearing his name spoken, the man with the 
bandaged head tried to raise himself in the bunk 
and muttered, as if his senses were still confused : 

“Malcolm Bruce, if you please, bound home 
to London, then out to Vera Cruz with a general 
cargo. Lost at sea, all stove up, and a black, 
12 


A SKIPPER IN BAD COMPANY 


wet night. But I get well paid for losing the 
rotten old ship. How much is it worth, Prin- 
gle? Ha, ha!” 

Jerry Pringle’s tanned cheek turned a shade 
or two paler and he forced a hot drink between 
the other man’s lips as if to shut off his speech. 
The master of the Kenilworth subsided and put 
his hands to his head while Pringle explained to 
Captain Wetherly with nervous haste: 

“He’s jabbering about the loss of his boat 
that you made hash of. It was nothing but a 
skiff. It was my fault, I guess. We were busy 
talking and I kept no lookout. I’ll pay him 
the cost of the boat, Captain Wetherly. So for- 
get it, won’t you. If you’ll send ashore for a 
hack I can lug Captain Bruce up to a hotel 
right away.” 

“No hurry, is there? Let him rest,” said 
Captain Jim. “Dan here will sit up with him 
if you want to turn in. Of course you know 
Dan Frazier, your boy’s chum.” 

Mr. Pringle glanced up at the doorway and 
looked even more downcast and sullen at recog- 
nizing Dan. He nodded at the interested lad 
and returned: 


13 


THE WRECKING MASTER 

“So many of us sort of crowd this state-room. 
I’ll look after Captain Bruce by myself if you 
don’t mind clearing out, Captain Wetherly.” 

The dazed captain of the Kenilworth showed 
signs of trying to break into the conversation 
and managed to sputter excitedly: 

“I get ten thousand dollars for this night’s 
job.” 

At this, Jerry Pringle fairly begged the kind- 
hearted skipper of the Resolute to withdraw, and 
although the night was cool for September, the 
rescued wrecking master wiped the perspiration 
from his face with a wet shirt sleeve. Captain 
Wetherly gazed down at the man in the bunk 
for a moment, nodded gravely, and tiptoed on 
deck with a parting remark: 

“Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money to 
pay for a splintered skiff, Pringle.” 

“Captain Bruce is ravin’ crazy,” grumbled 
Terry Pringle as he shut the state-room door. 

“Go fetch a hack, Dan,” ordered Captain 
Jim, “and help Pringle lug him ashore. I tried 
to be decent to them, but my patience is fraz- 
zled. I don’t want ’em aboard any longer than 
I can help.” 


14 


A SKIPPER IN BAD COMPANY 


“But what are they doing together in Pen- 
sacola harbor?” asked Dan. “There’s some- 
thing mighty queer about it all.” 

“Keep your guesses to yourself, and don’t 
think too hard about it, or you may go off your 
noddle like the Britisher in yonder,” said cap- 
tain Jim as he went forward toward his own 
room. Dan wandered far and wide ashore 
before he found a cruising hack and was able 
to return to the wharf. Going aboard, he de- 
layed to coil and stow a heaving line which 
tripped him as he passed along the lower deck. 
From a near-by window came the voice of 
Captain Bruce of the Kenilworth in low-spoken 
query, evidently addressed to his companion, 
Jeremiah Pringle: 

“Did I say anything silly? I was a bit mud- 
dled, I know. I didn’t bring you into it, did 
I? There was nothing said about the Kenil- 
worth 1 s next voyage, was there?” 

“You said a heap sight too much,” was the 
reply in a rumbling undertone. “That Jim 
Wetherly is pretty keen when it comes to putting 
two and two together. But he has a kind of 
mushy streak of sentiment in him and he won’t 
is 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


believe anything bad of a man till the evidence 
is strong enough to hang him. It’s been an un- 
lucky night’s work, and it’s time we were out 
of here.” 

Dan knocked on the door and, without even 
a “ thank you,” Jerry Pringle brushed him out 
of the way and half-dragged, half-carried Cap- 
tain Bruce toward the gang-plank. The mas- 
ter of the Kenilworth bade him halt, however, 
and, grasping Dan by the hand, told him in a 
deep and pleasant voice: 

“You saved my life, youngster, and I won’t 
forget it. Come aboard my ship before sailing 
and let me thank you, won’t you? I’ll be fit 
and hearty in a day or so.” 

Dan liked the looks and manner of the big, 
brown-bearded Englishman and warmly replied : 

“Pulling you out of the wet was the least 
we could do. I hope your head will mend all 
right. Captain Wetherly will be glad to see 
you on board again, sir.” 

Dan lent a hand as far as the hack and then 
sought Captain Wetherly’s room. The light 
was burning and the deck-hand dared to enter 
on the chance of having a talk with “Uncle 
16 


A SKIPPER IN BAD COMPANY 


Jim,” whom he found reading a novel in his 
bunk. The boy had many questions to ask, 
but he was not ready to go straight to the heart 
of the matter, and so began: 

“ Jerry Pringle acted kind of ugly and un- 
easy, didn’t you think? I suppose he was mad 
at getting spilled into the harbor. You and he 
never did seem to be very fond of each other.” 

Captain Jim threw down his book and sat 
up in his bunk with a rather grim smile as he 
replied : 

“You’re no fool, Dan, though you aren’t 
more than half as old as me. And you have 
lived ten of your years in Key West. I know 
you think the world of young Barton Pringle. 
He is a fine, clean lad, the son of his mother 
through and through. But there’s a different 
strain in that dad of his, and you know it. 
You want to find out what I think of to-night’s 
business, don’t you? Well, I think the big 
Englishman might have picked better company.” 

“But he said some things about getting ten 
thousand dollars for losing his ship and so on, 
Uncle Jim, and I heard more than you did. 
He was worried to death for fear he had talked 

17 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


too much. The wrecking business in Key West 
is square and honest as far as I know, but ship 
captains have put their vessels on the Reef on 
purpose in the old days and the wreckers helped 
plan it beforehand. And I can’t help wondering 
if Jerry Pringle came to Pensacola to fix up 
a deal with this captain of the Kenilworth to 
lose his ship on the next voyage out from 
London to Vera Cruz. There would be rich 
salvage and loot in a general cargo, wouldn’t 
there? She’s a mighty big steamer.” 

Captain Jim stroked his chin and was so 
long silent that Dan began to fidget. Then, as 
if rousing himself from some very interesting 
reflections, the elder man drawled in a tone 
of mild reproof: 

“ There isn’t a bit of evidence that would hold 
water, Dan. I may have my suspicions, but 
perhaps they are all wrong, and if we said a 
word it might ruin a good ship-master with his 
owners. Jerry Pringle and he must have been 
up to their ears in conversation when they let 
us run ’em under, and I wish the big English- 
man could prove an alibi for the time we had 
him, aboard. Better forget it.” 

18 


A SKIPPER IN BAD COMPANY 


Dan bit his lip and appeared so gloomy and 
forlorn that his uncle was moved to ask what 
troubled him. 

“It’s Bart Pringle,” said Dan, and his voice 
was not quite steady. “When I meet him in 
Key West I’ll have a secret to hold back from 
him, and it’s about his own father. Oh, I can’t 
believe there’s anything to it. And there’s 
Bart’s mother! Well, I think I’ll turn in, 
Uncle Jim. Good-night.” 

Late in the next afternoon the Resolute cast 
off from the coal wharf and swiftly picked up 
headway as her powerful engines began to urge 
her, with tireless, throbbing cadence, toward 
her distant home port of Key West. Presently 
she surged past a long, deep-laden cargo steamer 
from whose stern rippled the flaming British en- 
sign. It was the Kenilworth , and Captain Jim and 
Dan Frazier stared at her with curious interest. 

A tall, broad-shouldered, brown-bearded fig- 
ure was leaning against the railing of her bridge. 
A strip of bandage gleamed white beneath the 
visor of his cap. He flourished an arm in fare- 
well to the Resolute whose deep-toned whistle 
returned a salute of three blasts. 

19 


THE WRECKING WASTER 


Dan passed by the wheel-house door on an 
errand for the mate and could not help saying 
aloud to himself: 

“It must have been a nightmare. That Cap- 
tain Bruce looks like too fine a man to think of 
such a dreadful thing !” 

Captain Jim Wetherly overheard the com- 
ment and seemed to echo this verdict as he re- 
marked in a reverent and sympathetic tone: 

“Lead Captain Malcolm Bruce not into 
temptation, for Jerry Pringle is a hard customer 
to have any dealings with, on or off the Reef.” 


20 


CHAPTER II 


THE u RESOLUTE ” FATHOMS THE PLOT 

As the Resolute steamed into Key West har- 
bor, Dan Frazier was on the lookout for his 
friend Barton Pringle who almost always ran 
down to the wharf when the whistle of Captain 
Wetherly’s tug bellowed the tidings of her re- 
turn from sea. This time, however, Dan felt 
that a shadow had fallen over their close com- 
radeship which had been wholly frank and con- 
fiding through all their years together. Dan 
could not forget the events of the night in which 
Barton’s father had behaved like a man caught 
in the act of planning something dark and evil. 

But the sight of Barton Pringle waiting on the 
end of the wharf to catch the Resolute's heaving 
lines and welcome him home, made Dan won- 
der afresh if he had not been too hasty and 
suspicious. Barton’s honest, beaming face was 

in itself a voucher for his bringing up amid 
21 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


sweet and wholesome influences. Nor was Dan 
ready to believe that a bad father could have 
such a straight and manly son. Before the 
boys were within shouting range of each other, 
Captain Wetherly sent for Dan and told him: 

“You can stay home until you get further 
orders. I don’t expect to leave port again for 
several days. Tell your mother that I will run 
in for a little while after supper to-night.” 

Dan thanked him with a grin of delight and 
ran below to yell to Barton Pringle on the 
wharf : 

“Hello, Bart. Come aboard and help me 
scrub decks and get things ship-shape and I’ll 
be ready to jump ashore just so much sooner.” 

Barton made a flying leap aboard as soon as 
the lines were made fast, and asked as he picked 
up a pail and broom: 

“What kind of a voyage did you have, Dan? 
Anything exciting happen?” 

“Nothing to speak of,” replied Dan, and he 
felt his face redden with a guilty sense of secrecy. 
He was about to say that he had met Barton’s 
father in Pensacola, without mentioning how or 
where, when the other lad spoke up: 

22 


THE “RESOLUTE” FATHOMS THE PLOT 


“I tried to get away for a little trip myself. 
Father went up the Gulf on the mail steamer and 
I begged him to take me along. But he was 
going only to Tampa to see about buying a 
couple of sponging schooners, and he said he 
was in too much of a hurry to bother with 
me.” 

“Going only to Tampa,” echoed Dan with 
a foolish smile. “Oh, yes, only as far as 
Tampa. Sorry you had to miss it, Bart. 
How’s everything with you? Have you bent 
the new main-sail on the Sombrero ?” 

Barton plunged into an excited discussion 
about the fast little sloop which the boys owned 
in partnership, while Dan tried to keep his wits 
about him, for he was thrown into fresh doubt 
and uneasiness by the news that Jeremiah 
Pringle had said he was going to Tampa instead 
of Pensacola. Usually the two boys had so 
many important matters to talk about that one 
could find a chance to break in only when the 
other paused for lack of breath, but now Dan 
found it hard to avoid awkward silences on his 
part. He was glad when old Bill McKnight, 
the chief engineer of the Resolute , waddled up 
23 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


to them and announced with a sweeping gesture 
toward the city streets: 

“Back again to the palm trees and the brave 
Cubanos and the excitements of a metropolis 
smeared over a chunk of coral reef so blamed 
small that I’m scared to be out after dark with- 
out a lantern for fear I’ll walk overboard. I’m 
due to start a revolution in Honduras, and to-day 
I enlist a few hundred brave and desperate Key 
West cigar-makers, Dan. I’m perishin’ for a 
little war and tumult. Look out for my signal 
rockets.” 

With that Mr. McKnight jauntily twirled his 
grizzled moustache and ambled up the wharf. 
He had been engineer of the Resolute when she 
was running the Spanish blockade of Cuba, as 
a filibuster to carry arms and ammunitions to 
the revolutionists, and his cool-headed courage 
had fetched the tug out of some perilous places. 
The ponderous, good-natured engineer was very 
fond of Dan and every little while invited him, 
with all seriousness, to join some new and ab- 
surd scheme for touching off a Spanish-Ameri- 
can revolution, with dazzling promises of loot 
and glory. 


24 


THE “RESOLUTE” FATHOMS THE PLOT 


The boys laughed as they gazed after him, 
and Barton said: 

“ Filibustering must keep your hair standing 
on end, eh, Dan? I reckon it beats wrecking, 
though you couldn’t get an old Key Wester to 
admit it. There hasn’t been a wreck on the 
Reef for goodness knows how long. Father 
promised to take me with him on the next wreck- 
ing job if it isn’t blowing too hard when the 
schooners go out to the Reef.” 

“Well, you can count on seeing Captain Jim 
Wetherly and the Resolute on the job no matter 
how hard she blows,” smiled Dan with a spark 
of the rivalry which flamed high between the 
tow-boat and the schooner fleet. Willing hands 
made short work of Dan’s tasks, and he hurried 
into his shore-going clothes while Barton swung 
his legs from the bunk and retailed the latest 
news about ships, and the sponge market, and 
the High School base-ball team which had won 
a match from the soldiers of the garrison. They 
parted a little later, Dan eager to run home and 
see his mother, and Barton anxious to make 
the Sombrero ready for a trial spin. 

As Dan sped toward the cottage on the other 
25 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


side of the narrow island, he said to himself 
with a puzzled frown: 

“ Everything Bart talked about made me think 
of the other night in Pensacola : his father’s go- 
ing away, and the next wreck on the Reef, and 
all that. And he thinks his father is the strong- 
est, bravest man that ever went to sea. May- 
be he is, but I wish he wasn’t related to Bart.” 

A slender, sweet-faced woman in black was 
waiting in a dooryard shaded by tropical ver- 
dure as Dan rounded the corner. She had 
heard the far-echoing, resonant whistle of the 
Resolute , and knew that her boy was home 
again. Her husband, for many years employed 
in the Key West Custom House, had died only 
two years before, and the love and yearning in 
her eyes at sight of Dan would have told you 
that he was her only child and her all-in-all if 
you had never seen them together before. He 
was taller than she, and, as her sturdy son 
stooped to kiss her with his arms about her 
neck, she said: 

“I wanted to be at the wharf to meet you, 
Danny boy, but I couldn’t leave home in time. 
Bart Pringle’s mother ran in to talk to me about 
26 


THE “RESOLUTE” FATHOMS THE PLOT 


sending him away to school. I told her I wanted 
to do as much for you, but the way wasn’t open 
yet. They can afford it, and Bart is too bright 
and ambitious to settle down in a Key West 
rut.” 

They walked to the wide veranda across which 
the cool trade-wind swept, and Mrs. Frazier 
ordered Dan to take the biggest, easiest wicker 
chair, after which she vanished indoors and al- 
most instantly reappeared with a plate laden 
with pie and doughnuts. 

“ You had breakfast in that stuffy little galley, 
I suppose,” laughed she, “but I know you are 
always hungry. You can stow these trifles 
away as a deck-load, can’t you?” 

Dan confessed that he could carry any amount 
of cargo of this kind and then, between bites of 
a home-made doughnut, spoke very earnestly: 

“Bart ought to go North to school, mother, 
and I will tell him so and back you up for all 
I’m worth. It will do him good to break away 
from home. And Uncle Jim Wetherly will put 
up the same line of argument to Mrs. Pringle 
whenever you say the word.” 

“ Jim is my dearest brother, but I can’t picture 
27 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


him as showing very much excitement about 
Bart’s education,” she responded. “He thinks 
there’s no finer thing in the world than to be 
master and owner of a sea-going tow-boat. 
Why do you think he will be interested, Dan?” 

Her son took her hand in his hard, sun-burned 
paw and with a stammering effort began his 
confession of all that he had heard and seen 
after Jerry Pringle and the English ship-master 
had been run down in their small boat. The 
mother listened with wide-eyed astonishment, 
and then with something like indignation she 
cried : 

“Why, Dan, you ought to be writing novels 
for a living! That poor Captain Bruce of the 
Kenilworth was out of his head, and you know 
that Jerry Pringle has a sour, gruff way with him 
even when he’s on dry land. I can’t believe 
it of Mary Pringle’s husband. It is a dreadful 
thing to suspect him of, plotting to wreck a fine, 
big steamer.” 

“That’s just like a woman,” declared Dan 
with a very grown-up air of wisdom. “Mrs. 
Pringle hasn’t anything to do with it. And you 
are like Uncle Jim, always refusing to think 
28 


THE “RESOLUTE” FATHOMS THE PLOT 


other folks are a bit less square and decent than 
you are. Ask him to-night what he thinks about 
it, but don’t breathe a word to anybody else, 
will you?” 

“I shall scold him for putting such silly ideas 
in your head,” firmly announced Mrs. Frazier. 
“ You couldn’t have pieced this plot together all 
by yourself, even if you are as big and strong as 
a young tow-boat.” 

“ All right,” said Dan good-humoredly. “Only 
I hope Barton will go away to school before 
the explosion happens. For if I’m right, Jerry 
Pringle may be in disgrace before he’s a year 
older. Captain Jim will never let up on him 
if the Kenilworth does happen to be stranded 
on the Reef.” 

When Captain Wetherly strolled in after sup- 
per, his sister began at once to cross-question 
him. He evaded her as far as possible and 
finally declared: 

“I knew that Dan would tell you. I don’t 
want him to keep anything from his mother. 
But it must go no farther than this. I will 
say this much, that when the Kenilworth is due 
in the Florida Straits on her next voyage out- 

29 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


ward bound, the Resolute will be a good deal 
less than a thousand miles away. And just for 
curiosity I have cabled to London to find out 
if she is really chartered to Vera Cruz for her 
next voyage, and what kind of a reputation her 
owners bear. They may be interested in losing 
her, do you see? 

“Speaking of cables, Dan,” he continued; 
“I got orders this afternoon to go to Charleston 
at once and tow that big suction dredge to 
Santiago. We shall be able to get away in a 
couple of days. You had better come aboard 
to-morrow night.” 

“Why, you’ll be gone for weeks and weeks, 
Dan,” sorrowfully cried his mother. 

“I won’t waste any time, nor try to save coal 
on this voyage,” said Captain Jim with a grim 
smile. “I want to be a good deal nearer the 
Reef than Santiago, about two months from 
now.” 

“It’s a long, long while to have my boy away 
from me,” Mrs. Frazier murmured with a sigh. 
“But this tremendous conspiracy will be all 
blown out of your heads before you come home 
again.” 


30 


THE “RESOLUTE” FATHOMS THE PLOT 


After a luxurious night’s slumber in a real bed, 
Dan felt as if the cobwebs had been brushed 
from his busy brain and that the bright world 
held better employment than brooding over what 
might happen to somebody else. He set forth 
to find Barton and arrange a match race be- 
tween the Sombrero and a rival craft, to be sailed 
before Dan had to go to sea. The challenge 
being accepted on the spot, there was much to 
be done in a very few hours, and Dan heartily 
agreed with Barton’s opinion delivered from the 
cockpit of their rakish craft: 

“ It is a pity we have anything to do but sail 
boats for the fun of it. What a bully sou’west 
breeze we’re going to have this afternoon, Dan ! 
Can you coax old Bill McKnight to come along 
for ballast?” 

“Yes, if we promise him to smuggle some 
rifles and dynamite in the hold,” laughed the 
other. 

After dinner, Dan sauntered along the water 
front in the hope of finding the mighty bulk of 
the chief engineer to serve as two hundred and 
seventy pounds of desirable live ballast. The 
south-bound mail steamer, from Tampa for 
31 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Havana, had just landed her passengers, and 
foremost among them loomed the tail and lanky 
figure of Jeremiah Pringle. The wrecking 
master spied Dan and hurried to meet him in 
the narrow street. His manner was no longer 
hostile and sullen, and Dan was amazed to have 
a greeting hand stretched toward him and to 
hear a cordial voice: 

“How’s the boy? You and Bart as busy as 
ever ? I went up the Gulf to buy a schooner or 
two, and I found a beauty. I need a mate for 
her, Dan. You are young, but you know more 
about salt water than most men. It means 
double the wages of a deck-hand on that sooty 
old tow-boat. I want you to go to Tampa and 
help fetch her down right away, which is why I 
spring the proposition on you kind of off-hand 
and sudden.” 

It was a chance at which Dan would have 
jumped a week before. Something held him 
back, however, and, although he did not take 
time to reason it out, he vaguely felt that Jere- 
miah Pringle was trying to bribe him to keep 
his mouth shut. But he had a natural fear of 
making an enemy of such a man as this, and he 
32 


THE “RESOLUTE” FATHOMS THE PLOT 

swiftly decided to make no mention of the night 
in Pensacola. That was a matter for Captain 
Jim Wetherly to handle. Dan was ready to 
stand by his guns, however, so far as his own 
honesty was concerned, and he stoutly replied: 

“That is a big thing to have come my way, 
Captain Pringle, and I ought to thank you. 
But I don’t care to take it. My mother wants 
me to stick by Captain Jim Wetherly if I’m 
going to stay afloat, and she knows best.” 

Jerry Pringle looked black, but forced a smile 
as he growled: 

“One thing you’ve got from your Uncle Jim 
is a swelled head. Well, we’ll say no more 
about it; nothing at all about it , understand ?” 

The last words were spoken with a threaten- 
ing earnestness, and Dan understood what was 
meant. He nodded and went on his way, for 
once anxious to get to sea, away from a situation 
in which he seemed to become more and more 
befogged. He found Bart dancing jig-steps 
with impatience, and trying to listen to a long- 
winded yarn delivered by Mr. Bill McKnight 
who had been already kidnapped for the after- 
noon. 

33 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


The Sombrero sailed like a witch in the race, 
the live ballast shifted himself with more agility 
than the boys had dreamed he could display, 
and the match was won with the lee-rail under 
and the cockpit awash. Mrs. Frazier watched 
the finish from a wharf and invited Bart and the 
engineer to come home with Dan for a festive 
supper party in celebration. There could be 
no long faces or heavy thoughts at such a time, 
and Dan forgot the shadow and laughed himself 
into a state of collapse along with his mother 
and Bart when Mr. McKnight, with a wreath 
of scarlet ponciana blossoms on his bald head, 
danced Spanish fandangos until the cottage 
shook from floor to rafters. 

They all escorted Dan down to the Resolute 
in the starlit evening and sat on the guard-rail 
while the chief engineer fished a guitar from 
under his bunk and sang Cuban serenades, 
leading off with “ La Paloma.” It was as merry 
as such a parting hour could be, but there were 
tears in the mother’s eyes when she kissed Dan 
good-night, and her voice was not steady when 
she whispered, “God bless and keep you, my 
precious boy.” 


34 



The Sombrero sailed like a witch in the race 













f 
































k 








































4 





































































THE “RESOLUTE” FATHOMS THE PLOT 


When it came to saying good-by to Bart, Dan 
was more serious than usual and, he held fast 
to his comrade’s hand for a moment while he 
looked him in the eyes and said: 

“Blow high, blow low, you will find me stand- 
ing by, Bart. Good luck and lots of it.” 

Shortly after daylight next morning the Reso- 
lute churned her way out of the placid harbor 
and laid her coastwise course for Charleston^ 
It proved to be an uneventful run with pleasant 
weather and a favoring sea. Captain Wetherly 
had nothing to say about the steamer Kenil- 
worth until they reached Charleston where he 
found a cablegram from London waiting for 
him. He read it aloud to Dan as soon as they 
happened to be alone. 

“ Unable to send required information until 
later. Will communicate your next port .” 

“It might have cleared up this Kenilworth 
business,” said Captain Jim. “However, we 
may get a message at Santiago.” 

But the Resolute was not to see Santiago as 
soon as her master expected. There was a 
week’s delay in getting the great suction dredge 
ready to begin the voyage. Then, when the 
35 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Resolute had taken hold of the clumsy monster, 
for all the world like a bull-dog trying to drag 
a dry-goods box, the captain of the dredge was 
hurt by a falling bolt and there was more delay 
at anchor while a new skipper could be sent 
for. 

When, at last, the unwieldy tow was got to 
sea, strong head-winds buffeted her day after 
day and urged the panting, sea-swept Resolute 
to her best efforts to keep up steerage way. 
She crept southward like a snail, eating up coal 
at a rate which compelled Captain Wetherly to 
put into Nassau, and again into the harbor of 
Mole St. Nicolas at the western end of Hayti. 

Twice the dredge snapped her hawsers and 
broke clean adrift. When the weary tug and 
her tow crept in sight of the Morro Castle at 
the mouth of Santiago harbor, Bill McKnight 
almost wept as he surveyed his engines and 
boilers. Sorely racked and strained they were, 
and Captain Jim tried to comfort him by de- 
claring that no other fat engineer could have 
patched and held them together to the end of 
the voyage. Making temporary repairs was a 
costly and tedious undertaking, and the crew 
36 


THE “RESOLUTE ” FATHOMS THE PLOT 


of the Resolute tired of the charms of Santi- 
ago and grew restless and homesick for Key 
West. 

While Dan, the captain, and McKnight were 
eating lunch ashore one day, a swarthy, dapper 
clerk from the cable office sought the Venus 
Cafe with a message which he had tried to 
deliver on board the tug. It was for Captain 
Wetherly who read it with an air of mingled 
surprise and chagrin. With a glance at the 
engineer who was blissfully absorbed over his 
third plate of alligator pear salad, Captain Jim 
remarked as he handed the sheet to Dan : 

“It is from London. Well, the cat is out of 
the bag, and we might as well let McKnight in. 
We are going to need him before we get through 
with this job, and need him bad. I suppose 
I ought to have been more suspicious, but it 
sounded too rotten to be true. Bill, you must 
have that engine room in shape this week if it 
breaks your back. We are going to make a 
record run home to Key West. ,, 

Dan read in silence before handing the cable- 
gram to Captain Wetherly. 

“ Kenilworth cleared for VeraCruz. Heavily 
37 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


insured. General cargo. Owners hard hit by 
recent losses. Will bear watching .” 

Captain Jim hammered the table with his fist 
and tried to speak in an undertone as he hotly 
exclaimed : 

“ This confidential report makes my suspicions 
fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. I 
couldn’t for the life of me understand how the 
master of a big steamer could afford to ram 
her ashore and lose her, and his berth and his 
reputation with it, for ten thousand dollars. 
But if he knew that his owners would shield 
him and stand in with him, why, of course, he 
might be tempted to clean up ten thousand dol- 
lars for himself when a man like Jerry Pringle 
crossed his bows and passed him a few hints. 
A lot of good it would have done for me to cable 
Captain Bruce’s owners and give them warning 
of what we heard that night in Pensacola har- 
bor. They would have laughed at me as a 
meddlesome idiot. Cleared for Vera Cruz, 
has she? She does her ten knots right along, 
I picked up that bit of information at Pensacola. 
Allow her twenty days to the Reef.” 

Bill McKnight had dropped his fork and was 
38 


THE “RESOLUTE” FATHOMS THE PLOT 


purple with suppressed excitement. When the 
captain fetched up for lack of breath, he blurted 
in a hoarse whisper: 

“It doesn’t take a axe to drive an idea into 
my noddle. As near as I can make out, though 
your bearings are considerably overheated, 
Captain, there is scheduled to be a large and 
expensive wreck on the Reef, assisted by her 
skipper and one Jeremiah Pringle. It sounds 
like the good old times before the light-houses 
crippled the wrecking industry. And we Reso- 
lutes propose to be first on hand to pull her off 
and disappoint certain enterprising persons?” 

“Disappoint ’em!” fairly shouted Captain 
Jim. “If the Kenilworth does go ashore, I’ll 
fetch that vessel off the Reef if it tears the 
Resolute to kindling wood. I’ll break their 
rotten hearts and show them what honest 
wrecking is.” 

“I didn’t throw away that clamp I made to 
hold the safety-valve down, Captain,” chuckled 
Bill McKnight. “And I ain’t afraid to use it 
again, either.” 


39 


CHAPTER III 


THE RACE EOR THE “ KENIL WORTH ” 

Chief Engineer Bill McKnight hoisted 
himself up the iron ladder that led from the 
fire-room of the Resolute and tottered on deck 
gasping for breath. He was begrimed from head 
to foot, the sweat had furrowed little streaks 
in the mask of soot and grease which covered 
his ample countenance, and his eyes were red 
with weariness and want of sleep. He had 
shoved the tug back to Key West at her top 
speed, and now he was toiling night and day 
to make her ready for whatever summons might 
come for a tussle on the Reef. Captain Wetherly 
found him slumped against the deck-house with 
his head in his hands and exhorted him cheerily: 

“ Don’t give up the ship, Bill. It is a great 
repair job that you’ve done, and the worst is 
over. The new tubes are most all in, aren’t 
they?” 


40 


THE RACE FOR THE “ KENILWORTH ” 


“The boilers will be as good as new,” grunted 
McKnight, “but how about my bronchial tubes, 
Captain ? I can’t plug them up and make steam 
same as I plugged the boilers and fetched you 
back from Santiago. I’m so full of cinders 
inside that I rattle when I walk. But give me 
another week and the boat will be fit to hitch a 
hawser to this benighted island of Key West and 
tow it out to sea. Anything new ashore?” 

Captain Jim sat down beside the engineer and 
made sure that they could not be overheard as 
he began: 

“Dan has been watching Jerry Pringle’s 
fleet of wrecking vessels for me. Those two 
schooners he bought in the Gulf have come into 
port, and it is mighty little sponging he intends 
to do with them at present, Bill. They look 
fast and they can stow lots of cargo. And 
Pringle has been overhauling his other schooners 
and has chartered three more in Key West. 
He says he intends to send them out to join the 
mackerel fleet.” 

“Anything doing in the tow-boat line?” 
asked McKnight with a new gleam of interest 
in his damaged eyes. “If Pringle aims to 
41 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


tackle a certain job that may be reported from 
the Reef pretty soon, he will have to make a 
bluff at pulling the steamer off, won’t he? 
There might be a small fortune in salvage, be- 
sides looting the cargo out of her.” 

“He is dickering for some kind of a time 
charter on the Henry Foster ,” snapped Captain 
Jim. “She couldn’t pull a feather-bed off the 
Reef without breaking down. And I under- 
stand he has been cabling up the Gulf about 
another tug or two.” 

“Well, we can get all the tow-boats we need 
and good ones, can’t we?” beamed McKnight. 
“Maybe we can’t handle most any kind of a 
wrecking job ourselves! And there won’t be 
any bluffs about it when we take hold.” 

“I’m certainly sorry for Dan, poor boy,” said 
Captain Jim with a sigh. “He feels as if he 
were spying on Bart’s father. And to make it 
worse, Bart is going to sail with the old man 
for a while and the lad will be mixed up in this 
nasty mess as sure as fate, and he will be on the 
wrong side of it. Here comes our Dan now. 
Drop the subject, Bill. It only makes the 
youngster more unhappy.” 

42 


THE RACE FOR THE “ KENILWORTH ” 


Dan Frazier had passed some restless nights 
since his return to Key West, but his mind was 
too sunny and youthful to believe that things 
were ever as bad as they might be. He found 
comfort in the hope that Captain Wetherly 
would spoil the plot to lose the Kenilworth. He 
had implicit confidence in his uncle’s ability 
to win against any odds with the stanch Reso- 
lute , and now that a fair and open battle against 
Jerry Pringle was assured, Dan found himself 
eager for the fray. Barton had told him that 
morning: 

“ Father and mother are talking of sending 
me North to school, but I’m going to rough it 
at sea with father for a month or so. He said 
he tried to get you to work for him. I knew 
you wouldn’t leave Captain Jim, but maybe we 
might have been lucky enough to work on a 
wreck together.” 

“You can’t tell, Bart. Perhaps we shall, but 
we may be working against each other. I’ll 
back Captain Jim Wetherly to be first man 
aboard the next vessel that goes on the 
Reef.” 

“Captain Jim is a good man,” declared Bart, 
43 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


“ but it will be a cold day when he lays along- 
side a wreck ahead of that daddy of mine. ,, 

The boys were busy with their unbeaten sloop 
Sombrero , and one day slid into another while 
Dan employed much of his spare time in helping 
his mother about the house and in painting 
the chicken-house, the fences, and porch with 
great pride in the spick-and-span results. Mrs. 
Frazier still professed to take no stock in the 
plot hatched by “ Barton’s father and Mary 
Pringle’s husband,” but she was nervous and 
absent-minded at times, and there was even 
more affection than usual in her manner 
toward Bart. 

Dan tacked a calendar at the head of his bed 
and crossed off the days one by one, saying to 
himself when he awoke and looked at it: 

“ Twenty days out from London, as Uncle 
Jim figured it, and the Kenilworth is one day 
nearer the Reef.” 

Twenty- two days had been counted when 
Captain Jim called at the cottage and told Dan 
to go aboard the Resolute and stay there until 
further orders. When the deck-hand reported 
for duty, he found all hands of the crew either 
44 


THE RACE FOR THE “ KENILWORTH ” 

at work on board or within call on the wharf. 
Bill McKnight had steam in his boilers and, 
although the fires were banked, he had just fin- 
ished stowing below a generous supply of resin- 
ous pine wood, oil-soaked cotton waste, and a 
barrel of turpentine for use as emergency fuel. 

“I lost thirty-five pounds of weight in three 
weeks,” snorted the engineer, “but I mended 
the old hooker to stay mended. Ho, ho, there 
goes the Henry Foster to sea, Captain. Wonder 
if there’s anything doing so soon ? Her engines 
sound like a mowing-machine trying to cut a 
path through a brick-yard.” 

“Don’t worry about her,” muttered Captain 
Jim. “Pringle isn’t aboard her. We won’t 
leave here until he gets uneasy. He is a good 
deal better posted than I am about his infernal 
program and we ” 

Captain Jim stopped short, for Barton Prin- 
gle unexpectedly appeared on deck and an- 
nounced to Dan: 

“I’m going up the Hawk Channel with father 
at daylight to look for one of our sponging vessels 
that’s reported ashore near Bahia Honda Key. 
Thought I’d say good-by.” 

45 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Dan could not help glancing at Captain Jim 
as he replied with a quiver of excitement in his 
voice : 

“We may be running up the outside channel 
before you get back, Bart. Perhaps we shall 
sight you. Hope you have a good trip.” 

Barton was in a hurry and jumped ashore 
with a wave of his hand to the chief engineer. 
When he was out of ear-shot Dan observed with 
a long face: 

“I would give six months’ wages if I could 
make Bart stay home. Do you suppose his 
father is really going to sea at daylight, or is he 
just using Bart to fool us?” 

“I haven’t been walking in my sleep,” dryly 
responded Captain Jim. “There’s a hundred 
and fifty miles of the Reef between here and 
Miami and I don’t intend to follow any decoy 
ducks and fetch up at the wrong end of it. I 
figure on getting a report of any disaster as 
soon as the next man.” 

The next day passed without tidings. Jere- 
miah Pringle had vanished from his haunts in 
Key West, and four of his schooners were not 
to be found at their moorings. Another day 
46 


THE RACE FOR THE “ KENILWORTH 


dragged by, Bill McKnight was stewing with 
impatience and Dan Frazier was losing his ap- 
petite while Captain Jim Wetherly remained 
cheerful and unruffled. 

He was like another man, however, when a 
message came to him at noon on the fourth day 
of waiting. It was from the cable office and he 
had no more than glanced at it before he darted 
on deck, ordered the mate to get the crew aboard, 
shouted down a speaking-tube to Bill McKnight, 
and took his station at the wheel. His keen- 
witted, masterful energy seemed to thrill the 
Resolute with life and action. Black smoke 
gushed from her funnel as her stokers toiled in 
front of the furnace doors. The engines were 
turning over when the last deck-hand leaped 
aboard, and as the dripping hawsers were hauled 
in, the tug was moving out into the stream. 

Key West island was over her stern before 
Dan found time to run up to the wheel-house. 
Captain Jim slipped a crumpled bit of paper 
into his fist and motioned for him to keep it to 
himself. It was from the marine observer at 
Jupiter Inlet, a hundred miles to the northward 
of the Florida Reef: 


47 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


“ Steamer Kenilworth southbound passed seven 
this morning. Signalled steering gear disabled 
by heavy weather but able to proceed” 

Dan’s faith in human nature, as it had to do 
with the master of the Kenilworth , had been so 
severely shocked that he wondered whether the 
report of her mishap could be true. He was not 
shrewd enough to perceive, however, what Cap- 
tain Jim whispered as he went below to see how 
things were moving in the engine-room. 

“Crippled steering gear, bosh. Her skipper 
has to fake up some excuse for striking the 
Reef.” 

Dan could scarcely believe that the curtain 
had really risen on this seafaring melodrama 
in which he was to be an actor. A stately ship 
was moving blindly toward an ambush which 
might be the death of her. And racing to find 
and befriend her was this lone tug whose throb- 
bing heart of steel shook her stout hull from bow 
to stern as she tore through the long head-seas 
on the edge of the Gulf Stream. The after- 
noon was already waning and night would 
overtake the Resolute before she could reach the 
upper stretches of the Reef. Captain Wetherly 
48 


THE RACE FOR THE “ KENILWORTH ” 


felt certain that the Kenilworth would not be 
rammed on the coral ledges in broad daylight, 
and he foresaw a desperate game of hide-and- 
seek between darkness and dawn. But he held 
to the doctrine that with anything like even 
chances an honest man will win against a rascal 
in the game of life, afloat or ashore. 

The north-east wind was steadily freshening 
and the sky had become gray with drifting 
clouds. As dusk crept over the uneasy sea a 
mist-like rain began to drizzle. The master 
of the Kenilworth might reasonably lose his 
bearings if the night grew much thicker. Bill 
McKnight emerged from his sultry cavern long 
enough to grumble to Dan : 

“What’s to hinder our running past that 
steamer before morning, I want to know, hey, 
boy?” 

“You wouldn’t worry if you could watch 
Captain Jim hug the Reef,” assured Dan. “ It’s 
like walking a tight-rope. I thought we were 
going to climb right up into the American Shoal 
light-house.” 

“Well, this old tug is doing her fifteen knots, 
Dan, which is faster than she ever flew before,” 
49 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


chuckled the chief engineer, “and if we touch 
bottom, you’ll know it all right. Look up 
yonder at my fireworks.” 

Dan stared at a banner of solid flame that 
streamed from the funnel which glowed red 
hot for a dozen feet above the deck. With a 
cry of alarm he ran to the upper deck-houses 
which were built just fore and aft of the funnel 
and found the wood-work charred and smok- 
ing. He shouted down to McKnight who re- 
plied with a laugh: 

“It isn’t my affair if your superstructure burns 
up. My orders are to make steam. Better 
mention it to the skipper.” 

Dan rushed to the wheel-house but Captain 
Jim received the news as if it were the merest 
trifle. He was sweeping the sea with his night- 
glasses and exhorting the mate at the wheel to 
“hold her as she is and keep your nerve.” To 
Dan he replied airily: 

“Caught afire, has she? Good for Bill Mc- 
Knight. He’s delivering the goods. Get some 
men with buckets and put the fire out. I’ve 
no steam to waste in starting the pumps and 
putting the hose on it.” 

50 


THE RACE FOR THE “ KENILWORTH 


The deck force was taking turns at shovelling 
coal to reinforce the stifled stokers, and those 
off watch followed Dan with cheers. They 
knew that a race was on, and it lightened their 
toil to know that the Resolute was pounding 
toward her goal, wherever it was, with every 
ounce of power in her. Captain Jim joined the 
fire-fighters long enough to yell to them: 

“Look out for rockets ahead. The first man 
to sight distress signals from the Reef gets ten 
dollars and a new hat.” 

A brawny negro stoker wiped the sweat from 
his eyes as he bobbed on deck and panted: 

“When Cap’n Jim smell a wreck she’s sure 
gwine be where he say. If he wants to find 
’stress signals he better look amongst us poor 
niggers in the fire-room.” 

Midnight came and no one thought of sleep. 
The excitement had spread even to the cook 
and the galley boy who thought they saw rockets 
every time a match was lit up in the bows. Dan 
gazed out into the starless night and listened to 
the clamor of the parting seas alongside with 
frequent thoughts of Barton Pringle who was 
somewhere out here, proud of his father’s sea- 
51 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


manship and daring, loyal to his interests, trust- 
ing him as Dan trusted his Uncle Jim. Now 
like pawns on a chess board, the two boys were 
to play their parts on the opposing sides of a 
conflict which would be fought to the bitter end. 
Dan was aroused by a hoarse shout from the 
bridge of the Resolute: 

“Red rocket two points off the port bow.” 

Dan wheeled and looked forward while his 
breath seemed to choke him. A second rocket 
soared skyward, like a crimson thread hung 
against the curtain of night. 

“Hold her steady as she is,” shouted Captain 
Jim from his post on the bridge. “The weather 
has cleared a bit and that signal was a long way 
off.” 

There was an exultant ring to his strong voice 
as if he were glad to have the climax in sight. 
He sent for Dan and told him to stay on the 
bridge and look for answering signals. 

“It’s the Kenilworth , a thousand to one,” 
said the captain of the Resolute. “And if Jerry 
Pringle’s schemes haven’t missed fire, his tug 
or one of his schooners will just happen to be 
within signalling distance. Ah, by Judas, there 
52 


THE RACE FOR THE “ KENILWORTH 


goes his answer, a rocket way out to seaward. 
Pringle was afraid to hug the Reef on a thick 
night. He missed the Kenilworth when she 
passed inside of him. It may possibly be a 
merchantman that has seen the Kenilworth's 
signals, but we take no chances.’’ 

Captain Wetherly shouted the tidings down 
the tube to the engine-room force, and the 
hard-driven tug tore her way through the heavy 
seas in the last gallant burst of the home-stretch. 
Back through the speaking-tube bellowed the 
voice of the chief engineer: 

“I’ve just put the clamp on the safety-valve, 
Captain. She’s carrying thirty pounds more 
steam than the law allows, and if she cracks 
she’ll crack wide open. Hooray! Give it to 
her!” 

As if the captain of the stranded steamer 
were content to know that his message had been 
seen and answered, he sent up no more rockets, 
nor did any more answering signals gleam out 
to seaward. It was a race in the dark. The 
Resolute and her rival, if such it was, must run 
down two sides of a triangle whose apex was the 
unseen vessel on the Reef. Captain Jim had 
S3 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


taken the compass bearings of the Kenilworth's 
rockets and, regardless of the risk he ran in 
driving his steamer along the very fangs of the 
Reef, he held her in a straight line for her goal 
and prayed that her bottom would not be ripped 
off or her straining boilers blow her sky high. 

Almost at the same instant that the excited 
deck force of the Resolute glimpsed a red light 
winking far off to starboard, they saw the mast- 
head light of the stranded vessel almost dead 
ahead. 

“That red light out yonder belongs to J. 
Pringle, : ” muttered Captain Wetherly, “And 
we must be pretty near the same distance from 
that mast-head light on the Reef. It’s going to 
be a whirlwind finish, all right.” 

The Resolute kept full speed ahead as if she 
intended to cut her way through the stranded 
steamer. Not until a huge black shape dotted 
with a row of cabin lights loomed a little to one 
side of her headlong flight, did Captain Jim 
shift his course to round to in the deep water 
beyond the Reef. His fists were clenched and 
his jaw was set hard as he glared from the wheel- 
house door to find the oncoming boat which he 
54 


THE RACE FOR THE “ KENILWORTH 


had sworn to beat. Her lights were no more 
than a quarter of a mile away as the Resolute 
crept under the quarter of the stranded cargo 
steamer. 

“If that’s you out yonder, Jerry Pringle,” 
growled Captain Jim to himself, “ you’ve slowed 
up to find out who the dickens we are. No 
wonder you’re worried. Come on and have it 
out, you hatchet-faced pirate.” 

He seized the whistle cord and the Resolute 
roared a long, sonorous blast of greeting and 
defiance. Then he caught up a megaphone and 
shouted toward the steamer stranded on the 
Reef: 

“ Ship ahoy ! I’ll stand by to put a line aboard 
at daylight. Are you resting easy as you are?” 

“What steamer is that?” came the answering 
hail from the darkness. 

“The tow-boat Resolute of Key West, first ves- 
sel to come to your assistance. Who are you ?” 

“The deuce you are,” and there was the most 
profound amazement in the other voice. “This 
is the steamer Kenilworth of London. A cross- 
current set me on here but I can work off with 
my own engines, thank you.” 

55 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


“You’ll never work her off,” yelled Captain 
Jim. “Your vessel will break her back if it 
blows much harder. It’s high-water two hours 
after daylight. It’s now or never to pull her 
clear.” 

There was no reply. It was evident that 
Captain Malcolm Bruce was shocked and be- 
wildered by the unlooked for presence of the 
Resolute and was sparring for time until he 
could hail the other craft which by this time 
was feeling her way nearer. 

Captain Wetherly was in no temper for par- 
leying. He moved the Resolute up abreast of 
the Kenilworth's bridge and shouted sternly: 

“I know your voice, Captain Bruce. My 
name is Jim Wetherly. This is the only tow- 
boat within five hundred miles that’s got the 
power to drag you clear. And I must take hold 
on this next tide, before you begin to pound and 
settle. We’ll arrange terms afterward.” 

“I’ll wait till daylight before taking any lines 
aboard,” was the curt response from Captain 
Bruce who had moved aft to hail the other tug 
which had now dropped astern of the Resolute . 

“This is the Henry Foster , in command of 
56 


THE RACE FOR THE “ KENILWORTH 


Jeremiah Pringle/’ came back to him. “We 
answered your rockets. Shall we stand by?” 

“I will let you know when daylight comes,” 
answered the master of the Kenilworth. 

Captain Jim Wetherly stamped his foot and 
snarled at his puzzled mate: 

“They must think I’m seven kinds of a fool. 
I’ll block their game right now. Oh, Dan 
Frazier, come here, on the jump.” 

He grasped Dan by the collar, dragged him 
into the chart-room, and closed the door. With 
swift, emphatic utterance Captain Wetherly shot 
these instructions into the boy’s ear: 

“Dan, I’m going to put you aboard the Kenil- 
worth. I can’t spare anybody else, and you will 
be my agent, understand? If Captain Bruce 
refuses to take my line, this business will be put 
up to the underwriters from start to finish. And 
the crooked owners won’t be able to collect one 
dollar of insurance, I’ll see to that. And I’ll 
have you as a witness to prove that the Reso- 
lute was first on the spot. Come along with 
me.” 

Captain Jim pulled Dan by the arm toward 
the lower deck. A boat was lowered in a twin- 
57 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


kling and, while the excited lad waited for a 
chance to jump, Captain Jim told him : 

* “It’s likely that Pringle has Barton with him 
on the tug, and they may try the same trick. 
If they come aboard the Kenilworth , you re- 
member that you’re working for Jim Wetherly, 
no matter if it means a scrap.” 

As the yawl danced away from the side of 
the Resolute , Captain Jim shouted to the Kenil- 
worth: 

“Put a ladder overside, if you please, Captain 
Bruce. I’m sending my nephew aboard to talk 
business with you.” 

“I will talk no business before daylight,” 
roared Captain Bruce. “Call your boat back.” 

“ Oh, yes, you will take him aboard,” stormed 
Captain Wetherly. “If you don't , the under- 
writers will know the reason why . Shall I tell 
you why?” 

“Hooray! but that was a shot below his water- 
line,” chuckled Bill McKnight from the engine- 
room door. “But I don’t envy Dan his job 
when Jerry Pringle climbs aboard the Kenil- 
worth , ” 


CHAPTER IV 


WICKED MR. PRINGLE IN COLLISION 

In his cooler moments Captain Wetherly 
might not have ordered Dan Frazier to board the 
stranded Kenilworth before daylight, for a heavy 
sea was running along the Reef. But he knew 
there was smoother water in the lee of the 
stranded steamer and he had reason for con- 
fidence in his boat’s crew. He had been fool- 
hardy in bringing his tug so close, but he was 
in no mood to weigh risks ; and he was ready 
to back Dan to play a man’s part in this game 
for high stakes. 

Dan had learned to do as he was told without 
asking why, but as he peered from his plunging 
yawl at the tall, black hulk of the helpless Kenil- 
worth , his hands were shaking and his lips were 
dry. Although the seas did not break over the 
Reef because of the depth of water, they threat- 
ened to smash the yawl against the steamer’s 
side. Presently a lantern crept down from the 
59 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


deck above like a huge fire-fly. It was tied to one 
of the lower rounds of a swaying rope ladder, 
at the sight of which Dan gathered himself for 
the ordeal. As the yawl rose he jumped head- 
long, got a grip on the ladder, and hung on for 
dear life while a frothing sea washed over him. 
Gasping for breath, bruised and dazed, he 
fought his way up the side and fell over the bul- 
wark of the .after well-deck. 

Dan had not the slightest idea of what he 
was expected to do on board the Kenilworth , 
but after two seamen had stood him on his feet 
he limped forward in search of Captain Bruce. 
Oddly enough, he did not feel in the least afraid 
of meeting the hostile ship-master whose wicked 
plans had been spoiled by the coming of the 
Resolute . Dan recalled the big, brown-bearded 
man with the deep voice and the kindly eyes 
whom he had met in Pensacola harbor, and said 
to himself, as he had said then: “He looks like 
too fine a man.” But as Captain Jim’s agent, 
Dan braced himself to be stern and dignified 
while he clambered to the bridge. 

He found Captain Bruce standing in the light 
that fell from the chart-room door. 

60 


WICKED MR. PRINGLE IN COLLISION 

“I am to stay aboard until further orders from 
Captain Wetherly, sir,” announced Dan in the 
heaviest voice he could muster. 

“Nobody asked you, so get away from my 
quarters,” was the irritable reply. Dan stepped 
forward into the light and Captain Bruce stared 
at him with puzzled interest. Then his frown 
cleared and he exclaimed heartily: 

“Why, it’s the lad that fished me out of Pensa- 
cola harbor. I ought not to forget you, had I ? 
Pardon my rude manners, but a man with his 
ship in peril is poor company. Come inside. 
Well, upon my word, this is a most extraordinary 
reunion all round.” 

The stalwart master mariner was trying hard 
to wear his usual manner, but his words came 
out with jerky, nervous haste, his gaze shifted 
uneasily, and he was twisting both hands in his 
beard. If his conscience had been troubling 
him before, panic fear had now come to torment 
him; fear of Captain Wetherly; fear even of 
this boy, for no mere chance could have brought 
about this midnight meeting on the Reef. In 
silence Dan followed him into the chart-room 
and waited while Captain Bruce seemed to for- 
61 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


get himself in gloomy reflection. With an effort 
the master of the Kenilworth looked at the boy 
and began to explain: 

“I hope Captain Wetherly did not take of- 
fence. I am responsible for the safety of this 
ship, and until I can get in touch with my owners 
my word is final. If I can get her off without 
help, it means saving a whacking big salvage bill. 
She is making no water, and is in little danger.” 

Dan knew enough of the ways of seafaring 
men to be surprised that this captain should 
stoop to explain matters to the deck-hand of a 
tug. But the captain’s word did not ring true. 
He was trying to play a part, and Dan saw 
tnrough it and was sorry for him. 

“You don’t know the Reef,” replied the boy. 
“You struck it in good weather. And Captain 
Jim Wetherly is no robber. He would not 
stand by if he thought you were not going to 
need him and need him bad. We don’t do any 
crooked business aboard the Resolute , sir.” 

Dan had not meant to deal this last home- 
thrust. He was one lone-handed boy in the 
enemy’s camp. Captain Bruce flushed and 
looked hard at Dan, not so much with anger as 

62 


WICKED MR. PRINGLE IN COLLISION 


with unhappy doubt and anxiety. He did not 
reply and appeared to be struggling with his 
thoughts. Dan was so worn out with excitement 
and loss of sleep that he had to blink hard at the 
swinging lamp to keep his eyes open, and after 
several minutes of silence, Captain Bruce’s 
face seemed to waver in a kind of haze. Dan 
aroused himself with a start when the master 
of the Kenilworth spoke the question that was 
uppermost in his thoughts: 

“How did your tow-boat happen to find me 
to-night ? What were you doing out here, boy ?’ 9 

Dan’s drowsiness fled as if a gun had been 
fired in the room. What could be say ? If he 
told the truth he might be knocked on the head 
and dropped overboard before daylight. Deeds 
as bad as this had been done on the Reef, and 
he was the only witness to back up Captain 
Jim’s story of a plot to wreck the steamer. He 
could only stammer: 

“We were running to the north’ard and saw 
your signals. Captain Wetherly commands the 
Resolute. You must ask him.” 

“He threatened and bulldozed me to-night,” 
exclaimed Captain Bruce. “I let you come 
63 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


on board because he treated me kindly at Pen- 
sacola. I will give him my answer at daylight.” 

Dan leaned forward with his elbows on the 
table and looked up into the captain’s face. 
Mustering all his courage, he began to say what 
was in his heart, as if he were talking to one of 
his own friends who had done something to be 
sorry for: 

“ Captain Wetherly is working for your in- 
terests, sir. He knows the Reef better than any 
pilot out of Key West. If he says he can get 
your steamer off, he’ll do it. And — and — he 
wants to save you — your ship — no matter what 
it costs him. It — it — isn’t only to get ahead of 
Jerry Pringle on a wrecking job, Captain. He 
likes you, and Barton Pringle is my chum, and 
Mrs. Pringle is my mother’s dearest friend, and 
Captain Jim wants to get you clear and on 
your voyage again without — without being 
forced to — to fight it out to a finish with you and 
Jerry Pringle. It’s for Bart and his mother, 
and for you, too, Captain Bruce.” 

The ship-master walked to the doorway and 
stood gazing out into the night. Then he re- 
plied gruffly with a hard laugh: 

64 


WICKED MR. PRINGLE IN COLLISION 


“You are almost asleep, my boy. I can’t 
make head or tail of what you are driving at. 
I make my own bargains with tugs when I need 
them. Lie down on the transom and take forty 
winks. I am going to start my engines again 
and work my vessel off on this tide.” 

Dan nodded and promptly curled up on the 
leather cushions. Daylight showed through the 
port-holes when he awoke and stepped out on 
deck. A few cable-lengths to seaward rolled 
the Resolute . Astern of her was the Henry 
Foster . Beating up the Hawk Channel inside 
the Reef came two schooners under clouds of 
canvas. Other sails flecked the sea to the 
southward, all hastening toward the Kenilworth . 
From among the low islets to the westward the 
smaller craft of the “Conchs,” or scattered 
dwellers on the Keys, were speeding toward the 
scene. The Kenilworth lay with a list to port, 
her bow shoved high on the invisible Reef, her 
stern still afloat. It would have been hard to 
convince a landlubber that this great steamer 
was in danger of going to pieces. No seas were 
breaking around her. She looked as if she had 
come to a standstill in mid ocean. 

65 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Dan Frazier had the love of the sea in him. 
The sight of this helpless ship as he saw her by 
daylight appealed to him as tremendously sad 
and tragic. He picked up a sounding lead and 
let it fall over the side to find the depth of water 
amidships, for a glance at the chart-room clock 
had told him that the tide was almost at the 
flood. The sound of voices made him look aft. 
Captain Bruce was coming forward with Jere- 
miah Pringle, and behind them was Barton. 
A moment later, Captain Jim Wetherly threw a 
leg over the steamer’s rail and shouted to his 
men in the yawl to wait for him. He ran for- 
ward to Dan without speaking to the others as 
he passed them, and shoving his nephew toward 
Captain Bruce he exclaimed: 

“ Here’s my man, aboard your ship hours 
ahead of Pringle. You’ll have to talk business 
with me first. And all I ask is a square deal.” 

Barton hung back and acted as if he had 
caught the spirit of the hostile rivalry that 
threatened an explosion of some kind. He was 
more highly strung and impulsive than Dan, less 
used to knocking about among men, and he felt 
that Dan was somehow taking sides against 
66 


WICKED MR. PRINGLE IN COLLISION 


him. Before Captain Bruce could speak, Jerry 
Pringle strode up with an ugly scowl on his lean, 
dark face and said: 

“Let Wetherly talk terms. When he gets 
through, I will be ready to sign a paper to take 
charge of the job for half the figure he names, 
I don’t care how low he goes.” 

“That ought to settle it. You can’t do as 
well as that, Captain Wetherly,” put in the 
master of the Kenilworth. “If you are so sure 
my ship can be pulled off, I see no reason why 
Captain Pringle isn’t the man to do it.” 

Captain Jim was trying to keep his temper 
under, but the fact that these two men were 
trying to carry out their vile agreement right 
under his nose was more than he could stand. 
He shook his heavy fist in Jerry Pringle’s face 
and declared: 

“The Resolute will make fast to this ship this 
morning. And if you want the Henry Foster 
to get action, it will be under my orders, and 
at my terms. By Judas, this play-acting ends 
right here. I mean you, too, Captain Bruce. 
I have been hoping that I could keep my mouth 

shut. I’d rather cut o2 my right hand than 
67 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


drag certain other people into it. I know why 
you brought your boy along with you, Jerry 
Pringle. To put a stopper on my tongue, 
wasn’t it? Hide behind women and children, 
eh? Well, I’m in charge of wrecking this 
steamer, understand? Get back to your tug. 
I’ve a good mind to ” 

He felt a pull at his arm, and turned to look 
into Dan’s imploring face as the boy whispered : 

“ Don’t say any more, Uncle Jim. Wait till 
Bart is out of the way, please, oh please do.” 

Captain Jim rammed his hands in his 
breeches pockets and addressed Captain Bruce: 

“I’ve said my last word. My hawser will 
come aboard at once.” 

The master of the Kenilworth wavered and 
looked at Jerry Pringle as if appealing to the 
stronger will which had tempted and entrapped 
him. The hapless ship-master had gone too far 
with the plot to let it go by the board. Pringle 
muttered with a sneer: 

“Who is master of this steamer, anyhow?” 

Captain Bruce echoed the remark: 

“I command this ship, Captain Wetherly, and 
the sooner you leave her the better.” 

68 


WICKED MR. PRINGLE IN COLLISION 


Wasting no more words, Captain Jim called 
to his boat’s crew to stand by to take him off, 
and said to Dan: 

“ Pringle is going back to his tug. You stay 
here. They won’t dare to do you any harm. 
Keep your eyes and ears open.” 

Presently Bart followed his father on board 
the Henry Foster. Dan had found no chance to 
talk with him and he was not sorry. He was 
afraid Bart would ask him what Captain Jim’s 
angry speech had meant. Already the strand- 
ing of the Kenilworth had dragged the two lads 
into its tangle of motives and events. 

Dan was too absorbed in wondering what 
Captain Jim could do next to dwell long with 
his own troubles and perplexities. He watched 
the Resolute steam nearer the Kenilworth , while 
Captain Wetherly’s deck-crew gathered around 
the huge coils of steel hawser on the overhang. 
Soon the Henry Foster wallowed closer and her 
men were also busy making ready to pay out a 
towing hawser. Dan could not understand how 
Captain Jim was going to get his line aboard 
the Kenilworth , and he breathlessly awaited the 
next move. 


69 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


On board the Resolute , Captain Wetherly was 
standing at the wheel and watching the Henry 
Foster with the light of battle in his gray eyes. 
Jerry Pringle’s tug had forged ahead until she 
lay square in the path of the Resolute which was 
thus prevented from getting into position for 
taking hold of the steamer on the Reef. 

Captain Jim pulled the whistle cord and the 
Resolute clamored to the other tug to move out 
of the way. But Mr. Pringle seemed determined 
to remain exactly where he was. Again and 
again the Resolute 1 s whistle was sounded, but 
the Henry Foster refused to make room. Cap- 
tain Wetherly finally growled to the mate: 

“He doesn’t seem to have very good manners, 
does he? Maybe he ought to be taught a les- 
son. Take the wheel while I go below and 
have a few words with Mr. McKnight.” 

The chief engineer was leaning against a 
stanchion and muttering insults at the balky 
Henry Foster , with special emphasis on the 
shortcomings of Mr. J. Pringle. 

“Are you going to sit here all day and let 
those Henry Fosters laugh at you, Captain?” 
asked McKnight. 


70 


WICKED MR. PRINGLE IN COLLISION 


“Not if you have steam enough to do as I tell 
you, Bill. All I want you to do is to jump her 
ahead for all she’s worth when I ring the jingle 
bell. Then hold on tight and say your prayers.” 

“Going to push Pringle out of the way?” 
asked the engineer with a smile of happy antici- 
pation. “Well, there’s steam enough to make 
the Henry Foster know she’s been bumped. It’s 
about time something happened.” 

The captain returned to the wheel-house and 
gave the signal to back her. The Resolute 
slipped very slowly astern until she was in a 
position for a “running start.” As a final warn- 
ing her whistle was blown, without reply from the 
Henry Foster. Then, with one long blast like a 
war-whoop, the Resolute moved straight ahead, 
gathering headway until her rearing bow was 
flinging cascades of spray. The mate gasped: 

“Keep her off, Captain, or you’ll be in col- 
lision.” 

Captain Wetherly grinned and nodded as he 
held his tug straight at the after part of the 
Henry Foster on board of which there was much 
shouting and running to and fro. 

Her crew had taken it for granted that the 
7i 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Resolute would pass astern of them until her tall 
cut-water loomed within a hundred feet of their 
overhang. Then her engine-room bells ding- 
donged one frantic signal after another, but she 
began to move too late. Crash! and she heeled 
far over from the shock of the collision. Like 
a keen-edged axe through a soft timber, the bow 
of the Resolute , with her weight and momentum 
behind it, sheared through the overhang and 
sliced a dozen feet off the stern of the luckless 
Henry Foster. It was done and over within 
a twinkling. The Resolute ploughed on with 
headway almost unchecked, and as her horrified 
mate rushed forward to see what damage had 
been done to her own hull, Captain Jim Weth- 
erly looked back and remarked to himself: 

“ As neat a job as I ever saw. Her after bulk- 
head will keep her afloat, but the Henry Foster 
is surely shy her tail-feathers. I guess that 
winds up her career as a tow-boat for some time. 
Jerry Pringle looks kind of upset and agitated.” 

Mr. Pringle had picked himself up from the 
deck, where he had been hurled headlong, and 
was wildly shaking his fist at the Resolute. The 

crippled tug was drifting off broadside and was 
72 


WICKED MR. PRINGLE IN COLLISION 


evidently helpless. Presently a small boat put 
off from her and headed for the Resolute. As 
soon as he was within shouting distance, Jerry 
Pringle rose in the stern-sheets and yelled in a 
voice broken with rage: 

“ You’ll pay for my vessel, Jim Wetherly. 
You run her down on purpose. She’ll founder 
or drift on the Reef if you don’t tow me to Key 
West.” 

“ You violated all the rules of the road,” sung 
back Captain Jim. “And you’re so fond of 
wrecking other people’s vessels, supposing you 
see what kind of a job you can make of the 
Henry Foster. Tow you to Key West ? You’re 
joking. I’m going to put my line aboard the 
Kenilworth and I’ll settle with you later.” 

Dan was dancing up and down on the Kenil- 
worth' 1 s deck as he stared at this amazing colli- 
sion. It might be a reckless and lawless thing 
to do, but Dan saw that Jerry Pringle had 
brought the disaster upon himself, and that it 
had given Captain Jim a clear field. Throwing 
his cap in the air, Dan let out a series of shrill 
and joyous war-whoops. He had forgotten all 
about Barton, but in the midst of his noisy 
73 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


jubilation he caught sight of his chum standing 
aft on the Henry Foster and peering down at the 
havoc made by the collision. Dan’s voice must 
have carried across the water, for Bart turned to 
look at the Kenilworth and shook his fist with 
every sign of rage and resentment. Dan sub- 
sided, but the mischief had been done. He had 
made an enemy of Barton, and he muttered with 
a sorrowful face: 

“ I can’t blame him for getting mad as a hornet 
at me. I ought to have kept still. I don’t know 
how we can ever patch up this misunderstanding 
either. He ought to hold his daddy responsible 
for thinking he could monkey with Uncle Jim 
Wetherly and the Resolute 


74 


CHAPTER V 


“all hands abandon ship!” 

Nobody was more dumfounded by the ram- 
ming of the tug Henry Foster than Captain 
Bruce of the steamer aground on the Reef. In 
a twinkling his wicked partnership with Jere- 
miah Pringle had been smashed beyond mend- 
ing. He could no longer refuse to accept help 
from the victorious Resolute. This meant that 
Captain Jim Wetherly would take charge of the 
wrecking of the steamer and try to save her and 
her cargo by every means in his power. Jerry 
Pringle had been driven from the scene. He 
was on board his shattered tug which was drift- 
ing to the southward, in no great danger of go- 
ing ashore, while several schooners were cluster- 
ing around to give her aid. 

Dan Frazier paid no attention to Captain 
Bruce, but ran to the stern of the Kenilworth to 
watch the Resolute 1 s crew send its towing haw- 
ser aboard. Captain Jim was at his best in such 
75 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


an undertaking as this, and his men were 
obeying his shouted orders with disciplined skill 
and haste. The hawser writhed after the yawl 
like a sea-serpent and was dragged up the side 
of the stranded vessel by her own crew, who 
were jubilant at seeing active operations under 
way. When the line was made fast, Captain 
Jim bellowed through his megaphone : 

“We have wasted time and lost the best of 
the tide, Captain Bruce, but I’m going to pull 
for an hour anyhow. Set your engines going 
full speed astern and throw your helm to port.” 

Captain Bruce obeyed with eager energy. 
He seemed to be coming to himself and honestly 
anxious to get his ship afloat. His broad shoul- 
ders were thrown back, and he held his head 
erect, while his deep voice had a tone of master- 
ful decision. If he had made a compact with 
the Evil One, he acted like a man who regretted 
the bargain and wanted to repair the damage 
already done. Fate had suddenly snatched him 
out of the clutches of Jeremiah Pringle and per- 
haps he was glad of it. At least, Dan Frazier 
was ready to look at it in this way, and as Cap- 
tain Bruce came aft to examine the hawser the 
76 


ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP! 


lad said to himself with a wisdom born of his 
own experience: 

“Last night he kind of behaved like a boy 
that had done something he was awful ashamed 
of, but was scared to own up to it. Now he 
looks as if he felt the way I do when I’ve decided 
to tell mother all about it and promise her I’ll 
do the best I can to make things all square 
again.” 

Dan found time to take an anxious look at the 
weather, and a sweeping survey of sea and sky 
told him why Captain Jim did not want to wait 
for the next flood tide before beginning work. 
The ocean had turned from green and blue to 
a dull gray. The clouds were low and far- 
spread and the wind was seesawing in fretful 
gusts, now from the north-east, again from the 
north-west. The barometer had sought a lower 
level overnight, and all these signs declared that 
a gale was brewing. If it came out of the north- 
west, the charging seas would drive the Kenil- 
worth farther on the Reef and perhaps lift her 
clear across the coral barrier to sink, with a 
broken back, in the deep water of the Hawk 
Channel. 


77 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


The Resolute's whistle signalled that she was 
ready to match her power against the Reef. 
As she forged ahead, the sagging hawser taut- 
ened and twanged like a huge banjo string, while 
the sea was churned to froth in her wake. At 
the same time the Kenilworth's engines lent their 
mighty strength to the task. Her hull vibrated 
as if the rivets were being pulled from their steel 
plates, but the keel did not move an inch. 
Dan’s faith in Captain Jim’s word was so im- 
plicit that he expected to feel the steamer start 
seaward in the first ten minutes. At the end 
of the hour, however, the Resolute was still tug- 
ging away without result, like a man trying to 
lift himself by his boot-straps. Then she slack- 
ened up on the hawser as if to get her breath for 
the next tussle. 

The wind was blowing with more and more 
violence. It picked up the white-topped seas 
and hurled them high against the Kenilworth , 
while the tug rolled and plunged amid driving 
foam and spray. Gulls were flying in from 
seaward to seek the shelter of the distant keys. 
But it was not yet rough enough to daunt Cap- 
tain Jim Wetherly and he was evidently waiting 
78 


ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP! 


to make a second attempt on the afternoon tide. 
Dan had seen these northerly gales blow them- 
selves out in a few hours and he felt no uneasi- 
ness at being left in the Kenilworth , although 
he muttered to himself as he felt the helpless 
steamer tremble to the shock of the seas: 

“I don’t see why Uncle Jim left me here now 
that Pringle is out of the way. I guess he hasn’t 
time to remember that he is shy one deck-hand.” 

There was some truth in this surmise, for 
Captain Wetherly was having all he could do 
to keep the Resolute at her station and her pro- 
peller clear of the hawser which he refused to let 
go because he feared the weather might make it 
impossible to lower the yawl for another trip 
to the Kenilworth. He knew what Captain 
Bruce was not aware of, that the steamer had 
been shoved on % shelving slope of the Reef 
where she could withstand a terrific pounding 
without having the bottom torn out of her, and 
that if she once started to move astern she would 
quickly slide off into deep water. Therefore 
Captain Jim was ready to take long chances with 
his tug before he would run to Key West for 
refuge from wind and sea. 

79 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


In the afternoon, when the Resolute whistled 
that she was about to go ahead again on the 
hawser, the green billows were breaking over 
her bow and flooding aft in booming torrents. 
Her funnel was white with sea-salt from the 
spindrift as she plunged and reared like a buck- 
ing bronco. Dan was watching the laboring Res- 
olute from the stranded steamer’s bridge when 
Captain Bruce put a hand on his shoulder and 
said with hearty frankness: 

“That skipper of yours is plucky, and he is a 
first-class seaman. But he will lose his vessel 
if he stays out here much longer.” 

“He may have to give you a wider berth by 
dark,” said Dan. “In ordinary weather he 
could take the Resolute over the Reef along here, 
but now the seas would pick her up and drop 
her on the ledges. I guess he will have to leave 
me aboard here overnight, Captain. There’s 
no getting a boat over to me now. And he 
can’t take the Resolute to leeward of you, on the 
inside of the Reef, for there isn’t a deep water 
passage through, for miles and miles.” 

“You are welcome to stay aboard with me, 
lad,” replied Captain Bruce. “We may have 
80 


ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP! 


a tough time of it ourselves before morning, 
and I fancy your uncle is sorry he did not 
take you off with him. But that can’t be 
helped.” 

The Resolute had begun to pull. It was a 
thrilling battle to watch. The seas were so 
heavy that her power was applied in a series of 
tremendous lunges which threatened to snap the 
hawser every time her stern rose skyward. Dan 
held his breath and gripped the rail with both 
hands as the tug surged ahead again and again. 
Her mate and two deck-hands were crouched 
far aft, ready to cast loose the hawser whenever 
the captain dared to hold on no longer. After a 
while Dan saw the chief engineer waddle back 
to the overhang to take a look at the situation. 
There was something cheering in the sight of 
this bulky, stout-hearted veteran of many a des- 
perate venture at sea. Bill McKnight plucked 
off his cap and waved it in greeting to Dan, as 
if signalling him that all was well. 

“I guess he’s clamped down his safety-valve 
long before this,” said Dan aloud as he flour- 
ished an arm at Bill McKnight. 

“My word but you are a desperate lot,” 
81 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


observed Captain Bruce, and a smile lightened 
his anxious face and weary eyes. “I think we 
are safer aboard the Kenilworth .” 

He turned away to talk to his own chief en- 
gineer and his first officer. They had come up 
from below to report that the crew were begin- 
ning to talk of quitting the ship, and that it was 
hard to keep them at their stations. The news 
aroused Captain Bruce like a bugle-call to action. 
If he had been weak in an hour of temptation 
he was now once more the able, resolute ship- 
master, trained by long years at sea to face such 
a crisis as this. 

“Do the cowards want to abandon ship while 
we are trying to work her off? ,, he thundered. 
“Look at that tug-boat out yonder. She isn’t 
afraid to stay by us in a bit of a breeze. Come 
along with me. I’ll handle them.” 

He hurried after the first officer, and Dan was 
left alone to gaze at the brave struggle of the 
Resolute. It seemed impossible that she could 
hold on much longer. Her hull was buried by 
one sea after another, but she shook herself free 
and plunged ahead with dogged, unflinching 
power. The afternoon was nearly spent. A 
82 


ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP! 


stormy dusk was beginning to steal over the 
tossing sea. 

Dan perceived that Captain Jim was trying 
to stand to his task until high water might help 
to lift the Kenilworth. But for once that square- 
jawed uncle of his had dared too much. The 
Resolute had endured more than steel and tim- 
ber could be expected to endure. Dan yelled 
with dismay as he saw the massive timber frame- 
work of the towing-bitts fairly jump out of the 
deck, splintered and broken, and vanish in the 
sea astern while the hawser slackened and buried 
itself in the waves. The mate and deck-hands 
were hurled this way and that. An instant later 
the wind bore a terrific crashing noise to Dan’s 
ears. A gaping hole showed in her after deck 
as the Resolute dove ahead, suddenly released 
from her grip on the Kenilworth. 

“ Great Scott, she jerked the towing-bitts clean 
out of her,” cried Dan. “ It was just like pulling 
the stem out of an apple. Now we are done for. 
Is anybody killed?” 

His eyes filled with hot tears as he saw Bill 
McKnight rush aft and help pick up the mate 
and deck-hands who lay sprawled in the scup- 
&3 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


pers. The mate was huddled in a heap where 
he had been flung, and the rescuers dragged him 
clear and carried him forward between them, 
his legs and arms swaying limp. 

“He looks dead,” moaned Dan. “And it 
leaves Uncle Jim single-handed. He can’t run 
home before this sea with a hole in his after deck 
like that. She’d swamp in no time. He’ll have 
to buck into it and try to fetch Miami. And 
we can’t get any help to him.” 

The Resolute steamed very slowly away from 
the Reef, fighting for her life. Three long blasts 
from her whistle came down the wind as she 
spoke her farewell. Before long her reeling 
shape was lost to view on the shadowy sea ; then 
her mast-head light gleamed for a little longer 
before she wholly vanished from Dan Frazier’s 
yearning gaze. 

Captain Bruce had rushed on deck at the 
sound of her whistle and Dan pointed to the dim 
outline of the beaten and crippled Resolute while 
in a voice broken with grief and excitement he 
explained what had happened to the tug. 

“Uncle Jim will have other tugs on the way 
as soon as he can wire for them,” added Dan. 

84 



But for once that square-jawed uncle of his had dared too much 















































































































ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP! 


“I think he ordered a schooner to run to Miami 
this morning with orders for more help to be sent 
you.” 

“They can’t get out to us until this blow is 
over,” said the captain. “We are in for a bad 
night, my boy. I wish you were out of it. But 
Captain Wetherly couldn’t have taken you off 
to save his soul.” 

“I wouldn’t have been here if you had been 
square — ” Dan began to say with a sudden rush 
of anger. But it seemed as though Captain 
Bruce had not heard him, for he went on to say : 

“If my boy had lived he would have been 
about your age now, Dan. He was just your 
kind of a youngster, too. Go below and get 
some supper, and some sleep if you can.” 

There was to be little sleep aboard the Kenil- 
worth through this night. The gale had no 
more than begun to blow when the Resolute 
was forced to retreat. Long before midnight 
it was lashing the shoal water of the Reef into 
huge breakers which assailed the Kenilworth 
with thundering fury. Her keel began to pound 
as she was lifted and driven a little farther on the 
Reef by one shock after another. The decks 
85 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


sloped more and more until it was not easy to 
keep a foothold. The noise of the water break- 
ing over her hull, the booming cry of the wind, 
the groaning and grating and shrieking of her 
steel plates as the Reef strove to pull them 
asunder, made it seem as if the steamer could 
not hold together until daylight. 

The grimy men from the engine-room and 
stoke-hole had fled to the shelter of the steel 
deck-houses where they huddled with the sea- 
men, shouting to each other in English, Nor- 
wegian, and Spanish. Captain Bruce and his 
officers finally gathered in the chart-room and 
discussed the chances of launching the boats if 
matters should grow much worse. Dan Frazier 
was doubled up in a corner chair, half-dead for 
sleep, but fighting hard to keep his wits about 
him and tell the others what he knew of the 
Reef and the water that stretched to leeward 
of the ship. 

In answer to a question from Captain Bruce 
he said: 

“This is the narrowest part of the Reef, Cap- 
tain Wetherly told me, and if you can get your 
boats away in the lee of the ship and keep them 
86 


“ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP! 


afloat through the breaking water you will be 
in the Hawk Channel, only three miles from a 
string of keys. The channels between the is- 
lands are deep enough for a ship’s boat. You 
don’t need any chart to find smooth water in 
those lagoons, sir.” 

“Her bottom plates are opening up,” growled 
the chief engineer who had just come up to re- 
port. “ The sea is coming in fast. It has begun 
to flood the fire-room, and I can’t make steam 
to keep the pumps going much longer.” 

“The bulkheads forward are twisting like so 
much paper,” added the first officer. “They 
can’t stand up if she racks herself any worse. 
Then she will be flooded fore and aft.” 

Captain Bruce jumped to his feet and gruffly 
broke into this dismal kind of talk: 

“Get all the men you can and come below 
with me. Her after part is still afloat and tight, 
and if we can brace the midship bulkheads with 
enough timbers and cargo, they may hold for a 
while yet.” 

It was a forlorn hope, but even the seamen 
and stokers were glad to be doing something to 
save the ship, and most of them rallied to the 
87 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


call of the captain and mate and followed tnem 
down into the gloomy hold. Dan went along 
to try to do what he could, and also because 
he remembered that Captain Jim had told him 
to “keep his eyes and ears open.” 

“If we abandon the Kenilworth ,” thought 
Dan, “and I see Uncle Jim again, the first thing 
he will ask me is what shape we left the steamer 
in — had she begun to break in two, and how 
badly was she flooded, and so on. I guess it’s 
part of my job to find out all I can.” 

He picked up a lantern which had been over- 
looked and crept after the men, down one slip- 
pery iron ladder after another. It was a terrify- 
ing trip below decks where the angry ocean 
sounded as if it were about to tear its way 
through the vessel’s side, amid an awful hub- 
bub of shifting cargo, and breaking beams and 
plates. Dan hesitated more than once and tried 
to choke down his fear. He was in strange 
quarters and the men ahead of him, used to 
finding their way all over the vessel, moved 
much faster than he. They had reached the 
engine-room and were moving forward while 
he was still clinging to the last ladder. Then 
88 


ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP! 


a lurch of the ship dashed his lantern against 
the hand-rail. The glass globe was smashed 
and the light went out. 

The electric lighting plant had been disabled 
and the cavern of an engine-room was in black 
darkness as Dan vainly searched his pockets for 
matches. He heard faint shouts from some- 
where forward and thought he saw the gleam 
of lanterns. He tried to grope his way toward 
them, but stumbled and fell against a steel col- 
umn. With aching head he staggered to his 
feet just as the whole hull of the ship seemed to 
be raised bodily and let fall on the Reef with a 
deafening crash. Dan was more frightened 
and confused than ever. A moment later his 
feet began to splash in water. He thought the 
sea had broken into the engine-room, and he 
tried, with frantic haste, to find his way back to 
the ladder and regain the deck above. By this 
time he had completely lost his bearings. He 
did not know whether he was going toward the 
bow or stern. At length his trembling fingers 
clutched the rail of a ladder which ran upward 
from a narrow passageway. It led him to an- 
other deck still far down in the vessePs hold, 
89 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


where he could find no more ladders to climb. 
After what seemed to him hours of feeling his 
way this way and that, he bumped against a 
solid steel wall. Dan knew it was a bulkhead 
of some kind, but it must be far from the toiling 
crew of the ship, for he had long since ceased to 
hear or see them. He had never been in such 
utter darkness nor so hopelessly lost and be- 
wildered. 

The frightened lad shouted for help, but his 
voice could not have been heard a dozen feet 
away, so great was the din around him. He 
tried to think, to get back his sense of direction, 
to feel his way along the bulkhead in the hope 
of getting his hands on some object with whose 
outline he was familiar, which might tell him 
into what part of the ship he had wandered. 

He was leaning against the steel wall of the 
bulkhead when it buckled, sprang back, and 
then quivered as if it had been a sheet of tin. 
There was a tremendous noise of crackling, 
rending timber and steel above Dan’s head. He 
whirled about and tried to flee as he heard the 
collapsing bulkhead give way. 

The boy could hear the cargo toppling toward 
90 


ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP!” 


him with the roar of a landslide. He threw up 
his arms to shield his head, then something 
struck him in the back and hurled him to one 
side. He fell across a bulky box of some kind 
while other heavy boxes, a deluge of them, thun- 
dered from above and crashed all round him. 
Dan cowered in a frightened heap, expecting 
every instant to have his life crushed out. But 
gradually the descent of the cargo ceased, and 
he was still alive. 

He tried to move his legs and found they had 
not been smashed. Struggling to turn over on 
his back he put up his arms and discovered that 
a huge packing case had so fallen as to make a 
bridge over him and keep clear the little space 
in which he crouched. But he was walled in by 
packing cases on all sides and he struggled in 
vain to move them. Until his fingers were torn 
and bleeding and his strength worn out, Dan 
tried to make an opening large enough to wriggle 
through and escape from this appalling prison. 

When at length he lay still and panted aloud 
the prayers his mother had taught him, there 
came the echo of hoarse shouts above the clamor 
of the ship and the sea. Through a crevice 
91 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


between the boxes of freight that penned him 
fast he glimpsed the gleam of moving lanterns. 
The captain and crew were deserting the hold 
of the ship. Dan tried to call to them but his 
cries were unheard. 

The shouts ceased, the gleams of light van- 
ished one by one, and Dan was left alone in the 
flooded and shattered hold of the Kenilworth. 
Far above him Captain Bruce and his crew were 
making ready their life-boats, preferring to trust 
themselves to the storm-swept sea than to the 
steamer which they believed doomed to be torn to 
fragments within the next few hours. 

“They must have given up the fight,” moaned 
Dan between his sobs. “I guess it means all 
hands abandon ship at daylight. And they will 
think I’ve been washed overboard in the dark.” 


92 


CHAPTER VI 


DAN FRAZIER’S PREDICAMENT 

Imprisoned as he was in the hold of the Kenil- 
worth, and feeling sure that the steamer was to 
be abandoned by her crew as a hopeless wreck, 
Dan Frazier became almost stupefied with terror 
and exhaustion. As long as there was any 
strength in his athletic young body he had 
pushed and tugged at the mass of freight which 
penned him in, shouting in his frenzy until his 
voice failed him and died away in hoarse, broken 
weeping. 

At length his benumbed senses lost them- 
selves in heavy slumber. He dreamed of being 
at home with his mother in the palm-shaded cot- 
tage and she was holding him in her lap and 
stroking his forehead with her cool hands. But 
nightmares came to drive away this sweet dream, 
and he awoke with a choking cry for help. 

Dan thought he must have been asleep for 
93 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


hours and hours. More torturing than the 
realization of his dreadful plight was his burning 
thirst. But his brain was clearer and he listened 
to the medley of noises around him with a glim- 
mer of hope. The water had not reached the 
deck on which he had been trapped, although he 
could hear it washing to and fro in the bottom 
of the hold below. The hull of the ship had 
ceased to pound on the Reef. The breakers 
beat against her steel sides and fell solid on her 
upper decks with a sound like distant thunder, 
but Dan began to feel confident that the gale 
was blowing itself out and the steamer was go- 
ing to live through it. 

He thanked God that he had not been 
drowned, at any rate, even though he seemed 
likely to perish where he was for lack of food 
and drink. Youth grasps at slender hopes and 
finds strength in dubious consolations. Dan 
had expected to be overwhelmed by the sea with- 
out a ghost of a chance to fight for his life. Now 
that this peril seemed to be passing, his wits be- 
gan to return, and he fished his strong bladed 
sailor’s clasp-knife from his trousers pocket. 
To hack away at his prison walls was better 
94 


DAN FRAZIER’S PREDICAMENT 


than doing nothing. He twisted painfully about 
until he had located the widest crevices between 
the sides of the packing-cases and began to 
chip away at the stout planking. It was a task 
tedious and wearisome beyond words. There 
was no light, his nerves were unstrung, and he 
worked with unsteady, groping hand. Rats 
scampered over him, or squealed in the dark- 
ness close by, and he slashed at them savagely. 
They startled him so that more than once he 
gave up the task and wept like a little child. 

At length Dan cut through the planking of a 
box which was wedged fast between two larger 
ones and his knife clinked against tin. He 
managed to break off a splintered end of board 
and pulled out a round can of some kind of 
provisions. This was unexpected good fortune, 
and he carefully cut into the lid with a muttered 
prayer of thanksgiving, hoping to find enough 
liquid to wet his parched tongue. The can 
proved to be full of French peas, packed in 
enough water to supply a long drink of cool, 
refreshing soup. Dan scooped up the tiny peas 
with his fingers, emptied the tin, and eagerly 
drove his knife into another of them. The 
95 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


nourishment made him feel like a giant. He 
returned to his task with genuine hope of being 
able to whittle a way out of his trap. 

But as the weary hours dragged by, and the 
strokes of the knife became more and more 
feeble, the prisoner gave himself up to despair. 
His strength had ebbed so fast that he slumped 
down and slept with his face in his arms. 

A great noise awoke him. The cargo was 
shifting and tumbling with fearful uproar. 
From below came the rumble of coal sliding 
across the bunkers. The deck rolled violently 
and pitched Dan to the other end of his pen. 
He expected to be crushed by the cargo, and 
thought the ship must be turning over. But 
the commotion gradually ceased and, to his great 
astonishment, he was alive and unhurt. The 
deck seemed to have much less slant than before. 
He raised his arms and they touched nothing 
over his head. Unable to realize the truth, he 
scrambled to his feet and stood upright. The 
great package of freight which had roofed him 
over had slid clear, carrying along the boxes 
piled above it. Frantic with new hope of re- 
lease, Dan clambered upward, tearing his clothes 
96 


DAN FRAZIER’S PREDICAMENT 


to tatters, plunging headlong from one obstacle 
to another, bruising his face, hands, and knees 
against sharp edges and corners. Scrambling 
over the disordered cargo until he had to halt to 
get his breath, Dan gasped to himself : 

“I can’t get on deck through a freight com- 
partment. The hatches will be fastened down 
above. I must find out how I blundered in 
here as far as the broken bulkhead.” 

A moment later he fetched up against solid 
tiers of cargo which had not been dislodged and 
knew he must be headed wrong. This gave him 
a clue, however, and with fast-failing strength 
he stumbled back over the way he had come. 
At last he saw a streak of daylight filter down 
from a skylight far above. Yes, there was a 
road to the upper deck. Dan glimpsed the 
shadowy outline of a ladder. It was all he 
could do to muster courage to attempt the long 
and dizzy climb. But he set his teeth and clung 
like a barnacle to one round after another until 
he fell against the iron door of a deck-house, 
fumbled with the fastening, and tottered out into 
daylight. 

Half-blinded and blinking like an owl, Dan 
97 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Frazier covered his face with his hands until 
his eyes could bear the dazzling reflection of sea 
and sky which were flooded with glorious sun- 
shine. The wind sang through the shrouds 
and funnel-stays and the blue ocean upheaved 
in swollen billows, but the gale had passed. 
Dan’s bewildered gaze fell upon the empty 
chocks, the dangling falls and the davits swung 
outboard, where the steamer’s life-boats had 
been. These signs were enough to tell him 
that the ship had been abandoned. He was left 
alone in her, and he went forward with a feeling 
of uncanny isolation. Water to drink was what 
he wanted more than anything else, and before 
making a survey of the ship he sought the tank 
in the chart-room and fairly guzzled his fill. 
Then he made a ferocious onslaught on the 
cabin pantry and carried on deck a kettle full of 
cold boiled potatoes, beef and hard bread, and 
climbed to the battered bridge. 

Looking down at the steamer from this lofty 
perch, Dan understood what had caused the 
violent roll and lunge that set him free from his 
prison below decks. The storm had driven her, 
head-on, far up the outer slope of the Reef, 
98 


DAN FRAZIER’S PREDICAMENT 


where she had lain as if about to break in pieces, 
with the seas washing clean over her. But while 
her forward compartments had filled with water, 
her stern was still buoyant. When the gale had 
subsided the ship was hanging over the deep 
water on the inner side of the Reef, and the next 
high tide had lifted her stern so that she slid bow- 
first, for half her length, down the opposite side 
of the shelf which had held her keel fast. It 
looked like a miracle to Dan, but here was the 
ship still solid under his feet. Gazing down 
from one end of the bridge, he could see the 
inner edge of the Reef shimmering far down 
through the clear water and the hull of the 
Kenilworth , hanging only by the after part. 

“ Where, oh where, is Uncle Jim ? ” he thought. 
“He might patch up her bulkheads, lift the 
water out with his wrecking pumps, and pull 
her off yet. And I’ll bet he’d keep her afloat 
somehow.” 

Then a stupendous thought flashed into Dan’s 
mind. It was such a dazzling, gorgeous idea 
that it made him dizzy with delight. Yes, it 
was all true. The Kenilworth had been aban- 
doned by her captain and crew as a wreck. 

99 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


She was like a derelict at sea. Whoever should 
find and board her would have the right to claim 
heavy salvage on the vessel and her cargo if they 
were saved and brought into port. It was the 
unwritten law of the Reef that the first man to set 
foot on an abandoned wreck was the wrecking 
master, to be obeyed as such, with first claim on 
salvage. 

Dan tried to arrange his thoughts in some kind 
of order, and at length he said to himself with 
an air of decision: 

“The wrecking master on this job is Daniel 
P. Frazier. I earned it all right, and Key West 
will back me up whether Jerry Pringle likes it 
or not. And I’m going to hold her down till 
Uncle Jim comes back. There can’t be any 
more question about who has the wrecking of 
her. General cargo, too! — I’ll bet it’s worth 
several hundred thousand dollars! — and a four 
thousand ton steel steamer. If we can save her, 
the owners will have to give up fifty or a hun- 
dred thousand dollars in clean salvage money.” 

The weight of his responsibility soon tamed 
Dan’s high spirits. He could make no resist- 
ance if a crew of hostile wreckers should happen 

IOO 


DAN FRAZIER’S PREDICAMENT 


along to dispute his title in the absence of Cap- 
tain Jim Wetherly. The morning sun was no 
more than three hours high. He must watch 
and wait through a long, long day, any hour of 
which might bring in sight the sails of a fleet of 
wrecking schooners. Dan reckoned that he 
had been penned below for about thirty hours 
and that this was the morning of the second day 
after the wreck. Captain Jim must have a tug 
on the way by this time. But, on the other 
hand, if Captain Bruce and his men had been 
picked up and carried to Key West, their tidings 
would send Jerry Pringle and his horde of 
wreckers flying seaward by steam and sail. 

Every boy who plays foot-ball has dreamed 
of breaking through the line, blocking a kick, 
scooping up the ball, and running down the field 
like a whirlwind to score the winning touch- 
down with the other eleven vainly pounding 
along in his wake. So most of us have dreamed 
of playing the hero by stopping a runaway 
horse, saving the life of the prettiest girl that ever 
was, and being splendidly rewarded by her mil- 
lionaire father. Dan Frazier’s pet dream had 
a salt-water background. It was of being the 

IOI 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


first to find an abandoned ship with a rich cargo, 
triumphantly bringing her into port, and win- 
ning a fortune in salvage. At last he had found 
his ship, but the lone hero had an elephant on 
his hands. 

Dan was too weary in body and mind to 
roam about the steamer. He rigged a bit of 
awning on the bridge, dragged a mattress up 
from below, and lay gazing through the rents in 
the canvas weather screen until noon. A mail 
steamer northward-bound passed close to the 
Reef, slowed down to make sure the crew had 
left the wreck, and ploughed on her way. 
Dan grew tired of looking to the southward for 
schooners beating up from Key West and con- 
cluded that the head wind and heavy sea were 
holding them in harbor. There was no black 
smudge of smoke to the northward to show that 
Captain Jim was coming out from Miami in 
a tow-boat. Over to seaward, however, in the 
east-north-east, three sails glinted like flecks 
of cloud. They were close together, and Dan 
gazed at them idly, thinking they might be 
coastwise merchant vessels hauling southward 
before the piping wind. But as they lifted 
102 


DAN FRAZIER’S PREDICAMENT 


higher, he noticed that they were shaping a 
straight course for the Reef instead of swinging 
off to follow the track through the Florida Straits. 
They were schooners coming with great speed 
and showing a reckless spread of canvas. 

Soon the low hulls gleamed beneath the tower- 
ing piles of sail and Dan jumped to his feet as 
he scanned the beautiful sea picture they made. 

“ Bahama schooners; I know their cut!” he 
exclaimed. “They’ve smelled a wreck on the 
Reef as sure as guns. The news must have 
reached Nassau by cable yesterday. And those 
pirates have got a clear field for once. What 
can I do? They won’t listen to my story, not 
for a minute. They’ll swarm aboard like rats 
and be ripping the cargo out of this vessel in a 
jiffy.” 

The youthful wrecking master was at his wits’ 
end and his head began to throb as if it would 
spilt, for he had little endurance left. He re- 
mained in hiding on the bridge and tried to think 
out a plan of action as the Bahama schooners 
swooped across the frothing sea, laying their 
courses in a bee line for the Kenilworth. Dan’s 
only hope was that he might be able to stay 
103 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


aboard until Captain Jim should return to 
enforce the law of the Reef with his crew of 
hard-fisted tow-boat men to back him up. He 
thought of telling the wreckers that he was a 
stowaway, left behind when the steamer’s men 
deserted her, but, although Dan Frazier was far 
from perfect, he hated the notion of lying his 
way out of this tight corner. He was truthful 
by habit, for one thing, and there was another 
reason which he muttered to himself: 

“ There’s been lying enough on this job. The 
poor old ship has been rotten with lies ever since 
her skipper first ran afoul of Jerry Pringle. 
Even her grounding on the Reef was a lie. And 
I don’t believe Uncle Jim would lie to save the 
ship, or his own skin either. No, this poor old 
vessel has been good to me so far. I got out of 
her hold by good luck and I’ll trust to luck to 
pull me out of this scrape.” 

Dan picked up a pair of glasses and looked at 
the nearest schooner which had boldly crossed 
the Reef and was rounding to in the smoother 
water of the Hawk Channel while a group of 
black-skinned, ragged wreckers were shoving 

a boat over the side. Dan felt a new thrill of 
104 



Dan felt a new thrill of surprise and alarm 









































DAN FRAZIER’S PREDICAMENT 


surprise and alarm as he scrutinized a burly 
figure poised at the schooner’s rail. It was 
“Black Sam” Hurley, a Bahama wrecker of 
such evil repute that he had been pointed out to 
Dan in Nassau harbor as one of the notorious 
characters of the islands. 

“There are plenty of honest wreckers in the 
Bahamas,” said the lad to himself, while his 
teeth chattered. “But they don’t sail with 
‘Black Sam.’ And he was alongside the Reso- 
lute at Nassau, talking to the cook. He’d know 
me again. It’s a good thing I chucked up that 
idea of lying out of this. It’s time for me to get 
under cover, all right.” 

Dan crept off the bridge along the windward 
side of the deck-house and kept well out of sight 
of the schooners until he reached the belter 
of the funnel and the engine-room skylights. 
Then he slipped into the nearest door and made 
his way to the flight of ladders up which he had 
climbed in the morning. He had fled in a state 
of panic, but one glance down into the black 
hold made him draw back and take measures to 
provision himself against a long siege below. 
There was no need for great haste, and Dan de- 
105 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


layed to equip himself with a lantern, matches, 
a jug of water, and a canvas bag, crammed with 
food, which he slung about his neck. Then he 
made his way below with lighted lantern, seeking 
to find as secure and comfortable a refuge as 
possible. The Bahama wreckers would begin to 
loot the part of the cargo easiest to get at and 
handle, he reasoned, and therefore he passed by 
the uppermost cargo deck and explored the re- 
gion below, slowly making his way aft. 

It was a dangerous and desperate journey, 
but Dan was thinking only of keeping out of the 
way of “ Black Sam” until Captain Jim should 
come back and retake the ship which belonged 
to him. 

“Fm what the lawyers call a vital document 
when they’re arguing a salvage case in the Key 
West Court,” thought Dan with a half-hearted 
grin. “ And from all I’ve heard of ‘ Black Sam’ 
Hurley, he’d chuck this vital document over- 
board if he thought it might interfere with his 
possession of the wreck.” 

In this game of hide-and-seek the advantage 
was with the lad in the hold, and fear of dis- 
covery by the wreckers did not greatly trouble 
106 


DAN FRAZIER’S PREDICAMENT 


him. After a long time he heard clamorous 
voices somewhere above and he doused his 
lantern. The wreckers seemed to be exploring 
the upper cargo decks. Some kind of a dispute 
arose and the sides of the ship flung back the 
echoes of it as from a great sounding board. 
Dan could not make out what the quarrel was 
about, but at length the sounds grew fainter as if 
the wreckers had returned to the outside world 
above. 

Dan had felt a gush of cool wind from some- 
where over his head and shifted his quarters to 
get beneath it and out of the reeking, stifling 
atmosphere of the hold. He knew it must come 
from a pipe running to one of the great bell- 
mouthed ventilators on deck and was glad that 
it had been turned so as to face and catch the 
invigorating breeze. He had not dreamed that 
the ventilator might serve as a speaking-tube. 
While he waited, however, to learn what the 
wreckers intended to do next, some one began to 
talk, and he heard every word distinctly. The 
voice sounded so near his ears that he was as 
startled as if a ghost had stepped out of the dark- 
ness. Dan jumped to his feet, his nerves all of 
107 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


a quiver. He would have fled anywhere to get 
away from this uncanny voice, but a stronger 
gust of wind struck his upturned face and the 
mysterious voice sounded even louder. He 
thought of the ventilator pipe, got a grip on him- 
self, and scarcely breathed as he listened to the 
odd intonations of the Bahama negro speech. 
“ Black Sam” was talking. Dan remembered 
the peculiar guttural cadence of his voice as he 
had heard it in Nassau harbor. He must have 
been standing directly in front of the ventilator 
on deck, for every word carried down the pipe 
to Dan: 

“ Ah don’t care nuflin’ ’bout de ship. We ain’t 
got no tow-boats to pull her off. An’ if we don’t 
work quick an’ soon them Key Westers’ll be 
a-scatterin’ down an’ run us back home — you 
heah me ? Take a big bag o’ powdah an’ blow 
de side outen her. Dat’s what I say do. De 
cargo ports is all jammed fas’. We can’t open 
’em nohow. An’ we ain’t got no steam to hoist 
wid a donkey-engine. Blow de side outen her. 
She’s hung fas’ on de Reef. She ain’t gwine 
sink. When we’se done loaded our schooners 
wid cargo we can strip the brasses in de engine- 

108 


DAN FRAZIER’S PREDICAMENT 


room. Blow her up. Ain’t I wrecked plenty 
vessels? Don’t I know?” 

Dan heard one of the other wreckers rumble: 

“Sam knows bes’. Cut de fuse to burn ten 
minutes an’ let us get back aboard our schoon- 
ers. Hang de sack o’ powder ’g’inst the ship’s 
plates inside an’ let her go. Reckon we’ll blow 
a hole in her fit to run a tow-boat froo, Sam.” 

To Dan Frazier these last words sounded faint 
and confused, as if something was the matter 
with his hearing. He had only time to mutter 
“They are going to blow her up and me with 
her.” Then he felt so giddy that he put out his 
arms to steady himself. His knees gave way 
and he sank down in a heap. 


109 


CHAPTER VII 


A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 

Dan Frazier came to himself with the mes- 
sage from the ventilator pipe surging in his con- 
fused brain. The Bahama wreckers were going 
to blow up the ship. “A ten-minute fuse,” he 
whispered as he began to crawl forward to 
escape from the hold. How long had he been 
unconscious ? The explosion might come on the 
next instant. Dan was afraid to face “ Black 
Sam” Hurley and his lawless crew, but he was 
far more afraid to stay below. His only 
thought was to gain the upper deck and jump 
overboard in the hope that the wreckers might 
pick him up. Fear gave him strength for the 
journey, fear such as he had never known before. 

Losing his bearings in his headlong panic, 
Dan turned toward the side of the ship, for he 
had not delayed to relight his lantern. A little 
way in front of him a red spark glowed and 
no 


A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 


sputtered. It burned a hole in the gloom, and 
Dan stood stock-still and stared as if fascinated. 
It was the fuse of the charge of powder. He 
wanted to run away from it but his legs refused 
to carry him. 

When he moved, it was not in flight but 
straight toward the sputtering slow-match. It 
was not in the least a conscious act of bravery. 
Dan felt sure that he could not regain the upper 
deck before the explosion tore him to pieces. 
He turned at bay to fight for his life with the in- 
stinct of a hunted animal. 

Springing toward the terrible, winking spark 
with his fists doubled as if to ward off an attack, 
Dan struck at it, tore the trailing fuse free from 
its fastening, trampled it under his feet, and 
pulled it to bits after the fire was dead. The 
explosive itself was also an enemy which he 
must destroy. As if he were in a delirium, Dan 
whipped out his knife, cut the lashing of the sack 
of powder, and dragged it after him in his re- 
treat. He came to a hatchway, let the sack 
drop, and heard it splash in the water which 
flooded the lower hold. Then he clawed his 
way toward daylight. 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Dan no longer cared whether the wreckers 
saw him or not. No danger could have forced 
him down into the hold of the ship again. It 
was a place filled with horrors. When he came 
out into the sunshine and wind it was a kindly 
chance which made him lie down in a corner of 
the deck that was screened from sight of the 
wreckers’ schooners. Dan had forgotten all 
about them. He had come to the end of his 
rope, and all he could think of was, “I want to 
go home. I want to go home.” 

“ Black Sam” Hurley was impatiently await- 
ing the explosion which should tear a gap in the 
Kenilworth's side and allow his greedy wreck- 
ers to begin operations. Ten, fifteen, twenty 
minutes passed, and there was a great hub- 
bub on board the Bahama schooners tossing 
at a safe distance from the steamer. At the end 
of half an hour “Black Sam” ordered a boat 
away and the crew crowded in pell-mell. They 
boarded the lee side of the Kenilworth with the 
agility of monkeys and their bare feet slapped 
the deck as they ran to the hatch. 

Dan heard them and realized that he must try 
to find a resting-place where they would not dis- 
1 1 2 


A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 


cover him upon their return from below. He 
might perhaps be unseen if he took refuge on 
the bridge which the wreckers were not likely 
to ransack until later. He managed to drag his 
aching, weary body forward and laid down on 
the mattress behind the canvas weather screen. 
After a few minutes he heard the wreckers come 
boiling out of the hold with cries of amazement, 
anger, and fear. They had expected to find a 
faulty fuse, but fuse, powder, and all had van- 
ished. Some of them swore the ship was 
haunted and refused to have anything to do with 
fetching another sack of powder. Their leader 
bellowed and threatened, but he could not quell 
the riot. At last he yelled that he would lay the 
second charge himself and stay aboard if he blew 
up with it. Scoffing at the idea of ghostly inter- 
ference, he ordered his men to search the ship. 

These plans were suddenly knocked all 
askew. Shouting arose on board the schooners 
whose crews were waving their arms toward the 
north. The wreckers on the steamer rushed to 
the side and discovered the cause of alarm. The 
funnel and upper works of a tug were lifting from 
the sea, beneath a trailing banner of smoke. 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Dan had been watching the scene on deck with 
absorbed attention, and as he looked seaward 
and caught sight of the tug his heart stood still. 
He squinted through the glasses. There were 
two white bands around the funnel. Could it 
be the Three Sisters of Jacksonville, the big 
wrecking tug of which Captain Jim’s cousin was 
master? The streaked smoke-stack and the 
stubby derrick-masts — the drab wheel-house — 
yes, these were things which Dan remembered 
noticing when the tug was in Key West. And 
Captain Jim must be in her. She was hurrying 
to find out what had become of the Kenilworth. 
“ Perhaps they are looking for me,” thought 
Dan. “And I’m still wrecking master if ‘ Black 
Sam’ doesn’t see me first.” 

The Bahama wreckers were very busy with 
their own affairs. The sight of the on-coming 
tug had altered their campaign in a twinkling. 
“Black Sam” was now determined to keep 
possession of the wreck at all hazards, acting 
on the theory that he was the wrecking master 
by the law of the Reef. He told his men to stay 
where they were and slid down the side of the 
steamer to pull off to the schooners and muster 


A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 


reinforcements. A score of stalwart negroes 
rallied to his summons and tumbled into their 
boats. 

A picturesque and piratical looking force they 
were as they scrambled over the Kenilworth's 
bulwarks and scattered along her sea-scarred 
decks. “ Black Sam” showed his teeth in a 
snarl as he yelled to them: 

“Dey ain’t gwine be no argifying ’bout dis 
yere wreck. We’se heah an’ we stay heah. If 
dem tow-boat folks tries to come aboard, keep 
’em busy wid dem belaying-pins yondah an’ 
yo’ knives — yo’ heah me?” 

The Three Sisters was rapidly nearing the 
scene. From his ambush Dan watched her with 
yearning, happy eyes. He was not yet out of 
trouble, but Captain Jim would somehow 
rescue him in the nick of time. He saw the 
powerful tug sweep around to leeward of the 
Bahama schooners and slow down as if her 
people were trying to fathom the situation. Cap- 
tain Jim Wetherly was standing by the wheel- 
house door, shading his eyes with his hand. 
Dan wanted to call to him, but he dared not 
show himself. The tug crept nearer, and Dan 
115 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


rejoiced to discover that most of the Resolute’s 
crew were clustered along the lower deck, in- 
cluding the portly chief engineer, Bill McKnight, 
who loomed like a whale among minnows. 

Presently Captain Jim sung out: 

“ What are you Bahama niggers doing aboard 
that steamer ? She belongs to me. I had hold 
of her once and am in charge of wrecking her. 
Clear out before I put my men aboard.” 

A row of black heads bobbed in violent 
agitation along the Kenilworth’s bulwarks, and 
“Black Sam” Hurley shouted back with a loud 
laugh : 

“Go back home, white man. We foun’ dis 
yere wreck ’bandoned. Pse wreckin’ marster — 
yo’ heah me ? If you all wants her, come aboard 
an’ take her.” 

Dan saw Bill McKnight waddle aft in great 
haste, dive into his room, and beckon to a 
Resolute deck-hand. Presently the two reap- 
peared dragging a long, heavy box which the 
engineer began to break open with furious blows 
of a hatchet. 

“It’s the case of Mauser rifles Bill stowed 
away from the last filibustering cargo he ran 
116 


A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 


over to Cuba,” murmured Dan. “He said he 
was saving ’em to start another revolution with. 
Hooray! hooray! there’ll be something doing.” 

Bill McKnight was passing the rifles out to the 
eager crew of the Resolute who looked as if they 
were about to earn their passage aboard the 
Three Sisters . Captain Jim made one jump 
from the upper deck, without delaying to find 
the stairway, and caught up a rifle and a hand- 
ful of cartridges. Once more he shouted to the 
wreckers on the Kenilworth: 

“If you want trouble we’ll give you plenty 
Are you coming off?” 

“We ain’t scared by dem guns,” yelled 
“Black Sam.” “You ain’t got no rights in dis 
vessel. You all don’t dare to do no shootin’.” 

“I’ve got the underwriter’s agent aboard this 
tug, and he knows the facts,” returned Captain 
Jim. “You are pirates and I intend to have no 
monkey-business. I know all about you, Sam 
Hurley.” 

“Show yo’ claim on dis wreck. We’se heah. 
You ain’t/’ replied the negro. 

Dan could hold in no longer. He poked his 
head above the canvas screen of the bridge, 
117 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


waved both arms over his head, and yelled at 
the top of his voice: 

“You bet we’re here, Uncle Jim. And I’m 
wrecking master and it is your job.” 

The men on the Three Sisters dropped their 
rifles and stared in silence, with mouths agape. 
It was a voice and a vision from the dead. 
“Black Sam” and his wreckers stood poised in 
their various threatening attitudes as if petrified. 
It was a strange tableau. If Dan had hopped 
off a passing cloud he could not have caused 
a more breathless sensation. The spell which 
his appearance cast on all who beheld him 
was broken by the jubilant voice of Captain 
Jim: 

“It’s Dan Frazier sure enough. Thank God 
you’re alive and kicking, boy. Captain Bruce 
reported you drowned, and nobody’s dared to 
tell your mother till I could get out to the wreck. 
Hold your nerve. We’re coming after you.” 

The words awoke “Black Sam” Hurley to 
swift action. He was beside himself with rage 
at the boy on the steamer’s bridge who had 
spoiled the explosion and then made a jest of 
his claims as wrecking-master. The desperate 
118 


A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 


negro had only one idea in his head — to square 
matters by getting his hands on Dan. He ran 
toward the bridge with several of his men at his 
heels, and Dan hastily climbed on the rail ready 
to jump overboard as the only way of escape. 
But before the wreckers had gained his refuge, 
he heard Captain Jim cry: 

“Hold on, Dan. Don’t jump. Duck and lie 
flat where you are.” 

The boy flopped full length on the bridge an 
instant before several rifles barked on the Three 
Sisters and bullets came singing over the Kenil- 
worth. The wreckers halted, huddled in con- 
fusion, and ran for the shelter of the nearest 
deck-house. “Black Sam” delayed to hurl an 
iron belaying-pin at Dan’s head and paid dearly 
for the act. It was Bill McKnight who drove a 
bullet through his arm and made him fly for 
cover with blood trickling from his fingers. 
Then the clarion tones' of the fat chief engineer 
sounded across the water as if he had taken full 
command of the expedition: 

“Half a dozen of you men stay here to sweep 
the Kenilworth" 1 s bulwarks with your guns and 

give us a chance to climb over. The rest follow 
119 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


me to board her. A la machete! Out cutlasses. 
Viva Cuba! Hip, hip, hooroo!” 

Two boats were fairly thrown into the water 
from the Three Sisters and the cheering Resolutes 
fell into them, grabbing capstan bars and coal 
shovels, or clubbing their rifles. The Bahama 
wreckers had no intention of being driven from 
their prize without making a fight for it. Several 
of them pulled revolvers from inside their shirts 
and popped wildly away at the approaching 
.boats while “Black Sam” led a crowd of his 
followers behind the tall bulwark where they 
crouched, sheltered from rifle fire, and ready to 
receive the boarders as they came over the side. 
Captain Jim was in the bow of one boat, the 
chief engineer in the other. The wreckers had 
been unable to cut away the dangling boat ropes 
and bowlines by which they had climbed on 
board, and the attacking party ascended like 
so many acrobats. Bill McKnight was boosted 
and hauled part way, but as soon as he found a 
secure purchase for his fingers and toes, he dove 
over the bulwark like a landslide and pranced 
into action like a cyclone. 

It was a pretty bit of old-fashioned board- 
120 



It was a pretty bit of old-fashioned boarding for the prosaic 

twentieth century 



A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 


in g for the prosaic twentieth century. The 
Resolutes suffered some cracked heads and 
bloody faces before they gained foothold and 
swept forward. Try as he would, Captain Jim 
could not keep the terrific pace set by Bill Mc- 
Knight who was swinging his rifle like a flail 
and clearing a wide path while he grunted male- 
dictions at the foe. 

“ You’re blockin’ my way, you google-eyed 
thief. Bing l there’s one on the cocoanut,” he 
panted with a cheerful grin as he smote a stal- 
wart wrecker and sent him spinning. 

“We’re a-coming, Dan. Keep your reserved 
seat,” he bellowed to the bridge as he wiped the 
sweat from his eyes. “Black Sam’s ” men could 
not withstand the determined and disciplined 
onslaught and began to leap overboard, plop l 
plop! into the green sea over which the boats 
from their schooners were racing to pick them 
up. Only their leader stayed behind, sullenly 
nursing his wounded arm. Captain Jim halted 
long enough to tell him: 

“My men will take you aboard the tug and 
patch you up from my medicine chest. Then 
you’d better make sail for home. The Reef 

12 I 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


isn’t healthy for your breed of Nassau wreckers. 
Better pass the word among your friends.” 

Then Captain Jim ran to the bridge, but Bill 
McKnight was already hugging Dan and fairly 
blubbering over him. The boy was too weak 
to struggle out of this crushing embrace, but he 
waggled a free hand to Captain Jim and stam- 
mered : 

“W-wow, ouch. Glad to see you aboard.” 

“Glad to see us aboard, you rascal,” laughed 
his uncle as he yanked the engineer away and 
thumped Dan on the back. “Well, we’re 
tickled to death to see you aboard. How in 
the — , of all the — Whew, what are you do- 
ing here anyhow, Dan?” 

His nephew made a brave attempt to answer 
him. Now was the time to play the hero, to tell 
how he had stuck to the ship and saved her. 
But Dan Frazier was no hero. He was just a 
stout-hearted lad who had weathered one cruel 
ordeal after another with the Almighty’s aid, 
and he had hung on to himself as long as he 
could. Now there was no more call for courage. 
He was safe and the ship had been restored to 
Uncle Jim. Tears streamed down Dan’s face 
122 


A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 


and he swayed against Bill McKnight who put 
a steadying arm around him. 

“I — Pm just tired out, I — I guess,” he sobbed. 
“ Please take me home, Uncle Jim. I — I want 
my mother.” 

Bill McKnight coughed and wiped his eyes as 
he lifted Dan’s feet clear of the deck, while Cap- 
tain Jim lent his sturdy arms to the task of carry- 
ing the boy to the ship’s side and lowering him 
into a boat. They got him aboard the Three 
Sisters without mishap, took off his tattered, 
grimy clothing, and tucked him in the captain’s 
bunk. 

“The boy is bruised and scratched from head 
to foot,” said the master of the tug, Captain 
Jim’s cousin. “We’d better sponge him down 
with hot water and arnica. He must have had 
a tougher time of it than most grown men could 
live through, Jim. See here, these are fresh 
burns on his hands. Now, where did he get 
those?” 

“The Lord only knows,” said Captain Jim 
as he patted Dan’s flushed cheek. “Don’t pes- 
ter him with questions now. He’s got some 
fever and his eyes look bad to me. I’m going 
123 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


to leave McKnight on the wreck with some of 
my men to stand off any other kinky-headed 
pirates that may light on the Reef. And we’re 
going to take this boy home to his mother as fast 
as you can poke this old hooker of yours into 
Key West.” 

Dan opened his eyes and smiled at Captain 
Jim who motioned him to be quiet. But Dan 
was already restless with fever and he had a 
hundred things to talk about if they would only 
stop whirling around in his head long enough to 
be laid hold of. He looked at his scorched 
fingers which were pecking at a corner of the 
blanket and said in a voice so weak that it 
sounded foolish to him: 

“They tried to blow her up — to blow Jerry 
Pringle up — no, I don’t mean that. It was 
‘Black Sam’ Hurley — he lit the fuse, Uncle Jim 
— and I put it out — all alone down in the hold. 
You never saw such big rats — with sacks of 
powder tied to their tails — and eyes like sparks.” 

Captain Jim soothed Dan as best he could 
and whispered to his cousin: 

“Did you get that? It’s all true, I reckon. 
That’s an old trick of the Bahama wrecking 

124 


A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 


gangs. Ask Mr. Prentice to come in. The un- 
derwriters ought to be interested in the boy.” 

Mr. Prentice, the Florida agent of the Eng- 
lish marine insurance companies, was a sharp- 
featured, elderly gentleman of few words. He 
had a great deal of confidence in Captain Weth- 
erly’s ability to handle such a bad business as a 
costly steamer high and dry on the Reef, but he 
was not prepared to hear such an astonishing 
tale as was whispered to him in the doorway of 
the captain’s state-room. 

“Mind you, we don’t know a quarter of it 
yet,” added Captain Jim. “But it looks as if 
you’ll have to thank Dan Frazier, not me, for 
saving the steamer out yonder.” 

“U-m-m. Bless me, but it’s most extraor- 
dinary,” murmured Mr. Prentice. “I must 
go aboard at once and look for confirmation. 
It’s a very unusual wreck, Captain Wetherly,” 
and the underwriter’s agent shot a keen glance 
from under his gray brows. “I shall be much 
interested in getting Captain Bruce’s version. 
Jeremiah Pringle was off here, also, the night the 
Kenilworth went ashore, was he not ? I under- 
stand you were in collision with him next day.” 
125 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Mr. Prentice had slightly raised his voice. It 
carried to Dan’s ears and he raised himself on 
his elbow and cried out in excitement: 

“We’ll pull her off, Uncle Jim, and Barton 
won’t know. And his mother won’t know. 
Don’t let them know. The captain is sorry. 
We can handle it all by ourselves.” 

“The lad is off his head, and no wonder,” said 
Captain Jim, addressing the keen-eyed under- 
writer’s agent. “Come outside, if you please.” 

“What are you holding back?” asked Mr. 
Prentice severely as they moved away from the 
door. “I intend to get to the bottom of this, you 
know. There is some mystery about it that is 
eating that lad’s heart out.” 

“I haven’t time to talk,” was the reply. 
“But I’m going to get that ship off for you, 
thanks to the boy in there. And if we are hold- 
ing anything back, it will have to stay hid and 
hawsers couldn’t pull it out of me.” 

He went aft to meet Bill McKnight who had 
come over from the Kenilworth to get his orders. 

“How’s the boy?” anxiously asked the engi- 
neer. 

“Pretty sick, I’m afraid, Bill. But home will 

126 


A FAT ENGINEER TO THE RESCUE 


cure him if anything will. He’s talking wild 
and saying too much.” 

Captain Jim jerked his thumb over his shoul- 
der at Mr. Prentice and went on, “It’s the 
mysterious ways of Providence, Bill. Captain 
Bruce gave the dirty business away when he 
was queer in his head aboard the Resolute at 
Pensacola, and Dan has put that gimlet-eyed 
agent on the track by going daffy here. You can 
peek in at the boy, and then you hustle your 
dunnage and pick your men and go to the Kenil- 
worth. I’ll be back to-morrow, and more tugs 
and lighters will be on the way. Take Mr. 
Prentice along with you. Good luck.” 

The engineer tiptoed into Dan’s room and laid 
his rough hand on the pillow. He looked down 
in silence while his gray moustache quivered as 
if strong emotion was held in check. Then he 
lumbered on deck and prepared to quit the tug. 
A few minutes later the “jingle bell” rang 
boisterously and its clamor was borne to Dan. 
He smiled at Captain Jim and murmured : 

“Full speed ahead! And mother will come 
down to the wharf when she hears our whistle 
off the red buoy.” 


127 


CHAPTER VIII 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 

It was not until a fortnight after Dan Frazier 
had been taken home to Key West that he was 
allowed to leave his room and lounge in a wicker 
chair on the cottage porch. His face and hands 
were thinner and the sea tan could not hide the 
pallor caused by fever, but he looked at the glad, 
green world with bright eyes and clamored for 
food like a young cormorant. His mother, who 
fluttered about him with fond anxiety, had tried 
to banish all mention of the Kenilworth , but now 
that he was able to be outdoors he fairly bullied 
her with questions which had been disturbing 
his days and nights of illness. 

“I am sure Barton is as fond of you as ever,” 
said she. “He may have been angry at first, 
but he has been here to ask about you almost 
every day. He told me you had nothing to do 

with his father’s tug being cut in two by brother 
128 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


Jim, but he said you hooted at him when it 
happened. That wasn’t like my Dan.” 

Her son tried to look repentant, but his eyes 
twinkled and he grinned as he replied : 

“It wasn’t nice of Bart to laugh at me while 
his cantankerous old daddy’s tug was keeping 
the Resolute away from the wreck. How did 
Bart explain the smash-up?” 

“He as much as said that Jim Wetherly be- 
haved like a pirate and a lunatic, though of 
course Barton is too polite to put it in so many 
words,” confessed Mrs. Frazier with a sigh. 
“It has made a lot of talk in Key West. Mr. 
Pringle swears he is going to take it into court. 
He declares he had made a contract with the 
captain of the Kenilworth when along came Jim 
and rammed him to get the job away from him.” 

“Made a contract with the Kenilworth! I 
should say Jerry Pringle did,” snorted Dan 
with rising color. “He made his rotten con- 
tract in Pensacola, months before the ship was 
wrecked. He didn’t get half what’s coming 
to him. I wish Uncle Jim had sunk the 
Henry Foster. What else has happened?” 

“Captain Bruce has called twice to see you. 

129 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


And since meeting him I am more skeptical than 
ever about your conspiracy story, Dan.” 

“ Captain Bruce been here? So you like 
him, too, do you?” exclaimed Dan. “Were all 
hands saved from the wreck?” 

“They got away from the ship in their boats 
at daylight,” answered Mrs. Frazier. “ Captain 
Bruce had some ribs broken by being dashed 
against the side, and two boats were swamped. 
But they reached the keys with all hands and 
were picked up a day later by a sponger and 
brought down the Hawk Channel to Key West. 
Captain Bruce was broken-hearted over losing 
you, and when he heard you were still alive he 
insisted on leaving the hospital and coming up 
here, broken ribs and all. He seems very 
moody and depressed. I suppose he is unhappy 
about losing his ship.” 

“He is thinking about several things, I 
reckon,” said Dan. “That ship has made 
everybody unhappy. She is loaded with trouble. 
Captain Bruce is sorry he ever clapped eyes on 
Jerry Pringle for one thing. And he hates him- 
self even worse for not sticking to his vessel. 
And he quit her and left me on board to come 
130 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


through the gale all right with the ship still un- 
der me. What is he planning to do now?” 

“Wait, and take the Kenilworth again if she 
is floated,” replied Mrs. Frazier. “He is going 
up to the Reef as soon as the doctor will let him.” 

She walked to the end of the porch and 
brushed aside the tangle of vines which partly 
screened her view of the street. Then she 
turned and said to Dan: 

“Here comes Mr. Prentice and I think he 
intends to call here. What a very stiff and 
formal looking person he is!” 

The underwriters’ agent opened the gate with 
a courtly bow to Mrs. Frazier. His greetings 
were most polite, but he lost no time in coming 
to the point. Mrs. Frazier was about to with- 
draw, but Dan spoke up sharply: 

“If it’s about the Kenilworth , Mr. Prentice, 
I want my mother to stay. I keep no secrets 
from her.” 

Mr. Prentice bowed gravely and seated him- 
self facing Dan, who could not help feeling that 
this elderly gentleman was unfriendly to him. 
The underwriters’ agent opened fire without 
further warning: 

131 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


“I am pleased to note your rapid recovery 
from a very trying experience, Mr. Frazier. As 
you may know, I represent English insurance 
interests which wrote a total of a hundred thou- 
sand pounds sterling on the Kenilworth and 
her cargo. If the efforts to float the vessel 
prove successful, the loss may be compara- 
tively small.” 

Mr. Prentice adjusted his glasses, cleared his 
throat, and resumed with emphatic earnestness: 

“ You hinted at having prevented a disastrous 
explosion in the steamer’s hold, Mr. Frazier. 
You may not recall the words you used. It was 
after you were taken on board the tug Three 
Sisters . I have made the most thorough ex- 
amination of the Kenilworth and failed to find 
any traces of explosives.” 

“If you are going to call me a liar at the start, 
you won’t get very far,” hotly cried Dan. “Do 
you think I cooked up that yarn to get a reward 
out of the insurance companies? Did you fish 
in the water amidships for a sack of powder? 
Wait till the ship is pumped out and I’ll find it 
for you fast enough.” 

Mrs. Frazier laid her hand on the lad’s 
132 



“ If you are going to call me a liar at the start, you won’t 
get very far ! ” 





» ’ . : ■* 
















■ 





















A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


shoulder, whispered in his ear, and he sank 
sulkily back in his chair while the unruffled 
Mr. Prentice asked: 

“Why did you dump the powder down the 
hatch instead of letting it stay where it was as 
evidence of the dastardly attempt of the wreck- 
ers?” 

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” exclaimed 
Dan in a flare of impatience. “I was scared 
clean out of my wits. I was afraid to turn my 
back on that bag of powder. Maybe you 
wouldn’t have been as cool as an ice-chest, 
either, and thinking about evidence . What the 
dickens are you driving at anyhow?” 

“I will drop this matter for the present,” said 
Mr. Prentice, fishing out a small note-book as if 
to confirm his recollection before he declared: 

“I heard you say on board the Three Sisters , 
‘ Don't let them know . Keep it dark. We can 
handle it all by ourselves. The captain is sorry 
he did it . 1 What did you mean, Mr. Frazier? 
This wreck is to be investigated. I am already 
convinced that certain persons on board the 
tug Resolute had advance information of the 
intended loss of the Kenilworth. Your tug had 
i33 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


steam up and her crew on board for several days 
before the disaster. Captain Wetherly started 
for sea in a tremendous hurry after getting a 
cable message that the Kenilworth had passed 
Jupiter Light. I have copies of the message he 
sent asking for this information and the reply 
from the Government signal station. Then, as 
if to prevent interference with a bargain made 
in advance, Captain Wetherly deliberately cut 
down and disabled the tug Henry Foster. I be- 
lieve you know the truth. What did you mean 
by ‘Don't let them know ? Keep it dark?"' 

Dan looked bewildered for a moment and 
stared at Mr. Prentice who seemed to be talking 
the sheerest nonsense. Then, as the meaning of 
these suspicions filtered into the boy’s mind, his 
face became red with wrath and astonishment. 
His world was turning topsy-turvy. The un- 
derwriters’ agent was actually accusing Captain 
Jim Wetherly and the Resolute of the wicked 
deed which they had been trying to mend— of 
plotting to put the Kenilworth on the Reef! 
Why, this was like one of the dreams of Dan’s 
weeks of fever. At length he pulled himself to 
his feet and fairly shouted: 

I 34 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


“I know who started this crazy story of yours, 
Mr. Prentice. Jerry Pringle must be at the bot- 
tom of it. Do you mean to say you have listened 
to such infernal lies about a man like Captain 
Jim Wetherly? You didn’t understand what 
I was talking about on board the Three Sisters. 
And do you think we had anything to do with the 
stranding of Captain Bruce’s steamer ? Do you 
want to know the truth ? I’ll tell you the truth — 
No, I won’t. Captain Jim is my skipper and I 
must take my orders from him. He told me to 
keep my mouth shut, and I can’t say anything 
until he gives me the word.” 

Mrs. Frazier was wringing her hands as she 
stood between Mr. Prentice and Dan, as if try- 
ing to shield her boy from harm. “Dan must 
not talk to you another minute,” she exclaimed 
indignantly. “He is all of a tremble now. It 
is cruel of you to torment and bully him, Mr. 
Prentice.” 

The underwriters’ agent apologized and tried 
to explain his errand in more detail. 

“I like your boy, Mrs. Frazier. He is a manly 
fellow. I am inclined to believe that he is 
prompted by good motives. He is loyal to 
i35 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Captain Wetherly and the Resolute , which is 
quite natural. But this Kenilworth affair looks 
like a bad business from start to finish. Some- 
thing was in the wind before the steamer went 
ashore, and it is my duty to get at the facts with- 
out sparing any one’s feelings. I want Dan to 
think it over and I shall have another talk with 
him when he feels a bit stronger.” 

“Why don’t you tackle Captain Bruce and 
make him tell what he knows?” burst out Dan. 
“What does he say about it?” 

“The case of Captain Bruce will be disposed 
of in London,” answered Mr. Prentice; “but 
the evidence must be gathered in Key West.” 

He reluctantly took his departure and, as his 
tall, spare figure moved down the street, Dan 
followed Mrs. Frazier into the cottage and 
declared : 

“This notion of fighting to keep disgrace 
and exposure away from Bart Pringle and his 
mother has gone about far enough. Do you 
suppose I am going to have you dragged into it, 
all because Jerry Pringle is smart enough to 
cover up his tracks and shift the suspicion to 
Uncle Jim? Not in a thousand years. Uncle 
136 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


Jim will have to come to Key West and clear 
himself somehow.” 

A heavy footfall sounded on the porch and the 
spoon on Dan’s medicine glass jingled as the 
ponderous presence of Bill McKnight filled the 
outside doorway while he raised his big voice 
in “Ship, ahoy? Is Dan aboard?” 

“The very man I want to see. Come in,” 
called Dan. “He won’t excite me, mother, 
He’ll be just like a hogshead of soothing syrup.” 

The chief engineer advanced cautiously, as if 
not quite certain how to handle himself in a sick- 
room, and whispered hoarsely: 

“Keep perfectly cool and calm, my boy. 
We’ll say nothing at all about wrecks, riots, 
and revolutions, will we, Mrs. Frazier? Birds 
and flowers and how’s the weather, eh ? They’re 
the topics.” 

“Oh, shucks,” was Dan’s rude comment. 
“I want to know all about everything, don’t I, 
mother? Where is the Resolute? What’s the 
news from Captain Jim?” 

Mr. McKnight turned to Dan’s mother and 
waited few orders. She nodded her assent, and 
the visitor set himself down in a chair which 
i37 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


creaked and groaned. Then he extracted a 
package from his white duck coat and removed 
the paper wrapping. A glass jar was revealed 
which Mr. McKnight placed on the table with 
the explanation: 

“Calf’s-foot jelly, ma’am. I had to cable for 
it. There’s a poor crop of calves in Key West. 
I’ve never been sick myself, except when I got 
my head busted, or broke an arm or leg, or 
got shot up. But we fished a box of books out 
of an English wreck one time, and they were 
mostly novels. We dried ’em out in the engine- 
room and all hands read ’em. And whenever 
anybody in them yarns took sick, I’m blessed if 
the vicar’s wife, or the squire’s daughter, or the 
young ladies next door, didn’t trot in with this 
here calf’s-foot jelly. They used tons of it in 
every novel, ma’am. I reckon it’ll put Dan on 
his pins.” 

The chief engineer wiped his face and fixed a 
pair of spectacles on his ruddy nose, after which 
he gazed searchingly at Dan as if to satisfy him- 
self that the boy was all there. Bashfully wav- 
ing his paw as if to ward off Mrs. Frazier’s 
laughing thanks, he went on to say: 

138 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


“The Resolute is almost ready for sea and 
your berth is waiting for you, Dan. Captain 
Jim jerked the life out of her when he fetched 
away the towing-bitts. She was most as sad a 
sight as the Henry Foster. I’ve just come down 
from the Reef to see that the repairs are all 
ship-shape and run her to sea in three or four 
days.” 

“Can’t I go in her, mother?” begged Dan. 
“I won’t do any work. Tell the doctor the air 
will do me good. I’ve simply got to see the 
wreck. How about it, Mr. McKnight ? Is she 
really going to come off?” 

“You’d think so, if she brings a chunk of the 
Reef along with her,” chuckled the engineer. 
“Captain Jim has built two coffer-dams in her, 
where her bottom was ripped out. He’ll begin 
to pump ’em out next week. That will lift the 
bulk of the water out of her. And the wrecking 
pumps can handle the rest of the leaks. He’s a 
terrible man is Captain Jim, when he gets a full 
head of steam in his boilers. He’s patching 
up the bulkheads, lightering the cargo, got a 
force of mechanics in the engine-room, and so 
on till she hums like a beehive. Good weather, 
139 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Reef like a mill-pond, and two chartered tugs 
waiting to hook on to her, not to mention the 
Resolute .” 

“That beats doctors and calf’s-foot jelly for 
putting me on my toes again,” was Dan’s 
jubilant comment. “Have you heard anything 
ashore here about her going on the Reef?” 

Mrs. Frazier tried to head off this agitating 
topic, but Mr. McKnight failed to comprehend 
her manoeuvres and briskly replied : 

“No, I just come away from the Reef and 
hustled straight up here from looking over the 
Resolute. There’s nothing leaked out, has 
there? I’d like to see somebody punished, you 
understand, but Captain Jim told me to shut 
up and stay shut up.” 

“Well, we are accused of putting up the 
Kenilworth job,” exclaimed Dan. “Don’t mind 
mother. She’s one of us. If you’re going to 
have a fit, please go outside. This house isn’t 
big enough.” 

Mr. McKnight was too taken aback to dis- 
play any violent emotion. He wiped his spec- 
tacles with great care, as if they had something 
to do with his hearing, and asked Dan to “say it 
140 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


again, and say it slower.” Dan told him all 
about the visit of the underwriters’ agent, where- 
upon Mr. McKnight raised both hands and 
exclaimed : 

“Hold on, boy. It all sounds plumb raving 
crazy to you, but there may be a heap more in it 
than you think. Who knew Jerry Pringle was 
aboard the Resolute that night in Pensacola har- 
bor? You and me and Captain Jim, and the 
cook and galley boy. The rest of the crew was 
ashore or down below. Did you know that the 
cook and the galley boy quit the Resolute last 
week and went up the Gulf to ship on a Central 
American fruiter? They may be mighty hard 
to find if Jerry Pringle had anything to do with 
getting them out of the way. Where are our 
witnesses, eh ? And you tell me old man Pren- 
tice has copies of the cable messages that prove 
Captain Jim was waiting for the Kenilworth? 
They may be mighty hard to explain.” 

“How about Captain Bruce?” asked Dan 
with a very sober face. “He is the only man 
that can clear it all up in a jiffy.” 

“I can’t quite fathom him, Dan. Sometimes 
I think he only needs a good strong shove to 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


make him own up to it all and take his medicine 
like a man. But supposing Pringle offers him 
the ten thousand dollars anyhow to saddle the 
job on us Resolutes ? It’s worth that to Jerry 
to save his own skin.” 

“ Captain Jim must get after Captain Bruce 
and make him tell the truth if he has to choke 
it out of him,” cried Dan in great excitement. 
“ As soon as we pull the Kenilworth off the Reef 
there is going to be a fight to a finish.” 

“You ain’t quite fit for wrecking or fighting, 
and your mother will scold me directly for get- 
ting your bearings hot,” quoth Mr. McKnight. 
“You just sit tight and maybe you can go up to 
the Reef in the Resolute with me.” 

With this the chief engineer departed under 
full steam, evidently afraid of facing Dan’s 
mother. The patient suffered no relapse, how- 
ever, and felt so much stronger next day that 
Mrs. Frazier suggested a walk as far as the 
parade-ground of the artillery barracks, hoping 
to give him a respite from any more disturbing 
visitors. They strolled slowly through quaint 
crooked streets of the sea-girt town, into the 
shaded plaza of the garrison which faced an 

142 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


expanse of green lagoon and low mangrove- 
covered keys. A wharf ran out from the sea- 
wall in front of them and they walked idly 
toward it to look at the schooners beating up 
to the town. 

Dan delayed to watch a distant sail which 
was scudding in from one of the near-by keys. 
Presently he called out: 

“ Don’t wait for me, mother. That’s the 
Sombrero yonder, and she will pass within hail 
of the wharf. I’m going out there and catch 
Bart Pringle as he scoots by.” 

The boys had not met since Dan’s return from 
the Reef, and Dan was a trifle surprised that 
Bart had let the last three days pass without 
calling to see him. “I want to beg his pardon 
for laughing at him when the Henry Foster was 
stood on her ear,” reflected Dan as he walked 
toward the end of the wharf. “ We have a pack 
of things to talk about, and I must be awful care- 
ful not to say a word against his father. But 
there’s due to be a rumpus before long.” 

The Sombrero tore past with a free sheet, 
fluttered into the wind, and slid gracefully up to 
the wharf. Dan jumped onto the bowsprit and 
143 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


footed it aft with a cheery greeting to Bart who 
was busy with sheets and tiller. 

“Hello, Dan. Glad you feel so spry. Want 
to run down to the fort and back?” said Bart 
without his usual smile. His manner was so 
glum, in fact, that Dan spoke up rather sharply: 

“What in the world has happened to you? 
Has the Sombrero been beaten while I was laid 
up ? My goodness, I thought you’d be glad to 
see me.” 

Bart rubbed his head, scowled at the main- 
sail, and sighed before he responded with an 
effort: 

“I’ve got to tell you, Dan. Mind you, I don’t 
take any stock in it, but I hate myself for letting 
it worry me. It’s about the Kenilworth. It’s 
too tough to repeat, really it is, but you ought to 
have a chance to come out and nail it as a lie. 
They say Captain Jim Wetherly knew she was 
going on the Reef, and that you knew it, too. I 
wish ” 

“And you listened to such stuff?” Dan fiercely 
broke in. “Who told it to you?” 

“Mr. Prentice asked me a lot of questions and 
I couldn’t help seeing what he was trying to 
144 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


prove, Dan. I asked my father about it and he 
seemed to think things looked pretty black for 
Captain Jim. And father is mighty seldom 
fooled about anything that goes on along the 
Reef. I want to tell him that you say it’s all 
foolishness. He would be mighty glad to have 
it cleared up all right for Captain Jim Wetherly. 
And he knows how chummy I am with you.” 

“Y-you asked your f-father about it?” 
stuttered Dan and his eyes were blazing. 
“Bart Pringle, you make my head dizzy. Look 
here, I’ll tell you one thing that’s straight goods. 
I wouldn’t believe you were guilty of a murder, 
not if they had a million witnesses, unless I saw 
you do it with my own two eyes. And as for the 
Kenilworth , whether Captain Bruce meant to 
put her on the Reef or not, Captain Jim Weth- 
erly had nothing to do with it. And that’s all 
I can tell you. Of course that lets me out.” 

Dan’s heart was sore that his chum’s loyalty 
should have been shaken in the slightest degree, 
but he tried to be fair, and added in a milder 
tone: 

“Mr. Prentice got things all snarled up some- 
how, but it’s sure to come out right. Maybe 
i4S 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


I ought not to blame you for being worried, Bart. 
Things have been happening mighty fast for all 
hands concerned. ,, 

By this time Barton was honestly ashamed of 
himself and could think of nothing to say but 
a stammering apology which Dan accepted with 
a rather gloomy nod. It was the nearest their 
friendship had ever come to a break, and both 
boys would have preferred an open quarrel 
to this cloud of aggrieved misunderstanding. 
There was little more talk between them while 
the sloop crashed into the long seas of the outer 
roadstead. After they had put her about and 
were heading homeward, Dan exclaimed: 

“ There’s the good old Resolute at her dock, 
and she is getting up steam. She must be 
’most ready to go to the Reef. Put me along- 
side, Bart. I want to look her over. I’ll walk 
home from there.” 

As Dan sprang up the deck of the tug he 
was hailed by the chief engineer. Leading the 
way to his state-room, Mr. McKnight picked 
Dan up bodily, tossed him on the bunk, locked 
the door, and spoke as follows: 

“ Things are a-popping red-hot, my boy. 

146 


A FOG OF SUSPICIONS 


Captain Jim landed from the Reef an hour ago. 
I told him all I knew about his being suspected 
of the crooked job, and what does our busy skip- 
per do then ? He promptly lays for Jerry Prin- 
gle. Does he beat him to death, same as I 
figured on doing sooner or later ? No, Captain 
Jim, as usual, does what you least expect. He 
tells Pringle that he needs help on the Kenil- 
worth wreck. Weather looks unsettled; must 
lighter more cargo out of her quicker than blazes ; 
needs all the schooners he can lay his hands on, 
and is in a desperate hurry for another tug. 
Then he up and offers J. Pringle a contract 
to take all his vessels up to the Kenilworth and 
go along himself as assistant boss on the wreck. 
Jerry hems and haws, but Captain Jim looks 
him square in the eye and tells him to have that 
Tampa tug of his ready for sea at daylight to- 
morrow. And Jerry agrees as meek as Moses 
and goes off to find the skipper of his vessels.” 

“But why and what for?” exclaimed Dan. 
“Jerry Pringle working for Captain Jim on the 
Kenilworth ! It’s too much for me to fathom.” 

“For one thing, Captain Jim needs his help 
to get the steamer off,” returned Bill McKnight. 

147 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


“ There isn’t a smarter wrecker on the coast than 
this same Pringle. The love of wrecking is in 
his blood, and it fairly kills him to be idle with a 
fine, big ship on the Reef. Now that his plot to 
lose the Kenilworth is spoiled, why shouldn’t he 
win a nice pot of money by helping save her? 
Then, again, maybe Captain Jim wants to heap 
coals on his head till he hollers for a fire-extin- 
guisher. There is going to be something doing 
on the Reef, Dan. Better come along with us. 
You will be plenty strong enough if you have 
eaten up all that calf’s-foot jelly I lugged up to 
you.” 

“Where does Captain Bruce come in?” asked 
Dan. “Will he be on the Kenilworth , too ?” 

“He goes up in the Resolute with us, but 
Jerry Pringle doesn’t know it,” answered Mr. 
McKnight with a solemn wink. “Everybody 
that has played a hand in this game is going to 
round to on the deck of that unfortunate steamer 
in a couple of days from now, and I’m a poor 
guesser if it don’t turn out to be a lively reunion 
before she comes off the Reef.” 


148 


CHAPTER IX 


THE BROKEN HAWSER 

The battered Kenilworth lay heeled far over 
to one side, looming forlornly from the Reef in 
the midst of a smooth and sparkling sea. Her 
sides were gray with brine and streaked red with 
rust, her grimy decks strewn with a chaotic lit- 
ter of cargo, timbers, and rigging. The once 
trim, seagoing steamer made a most distressful 
picture as seen from the Resolute which was 
bearing down from the direction of Key West. 
Captain Bruce was standing in the bows of the 
tug. Gazing at his helpless ship, he found it 
very hard to realize that he had deliberately 
placed the Kenilworth in this pitiful plight. 

She looked as if she had laid her bones on the 
Reef for good and all, but it was plain to see that 
the wreckers did not think so. Cargo was tum- 
bling from her ports into lighters strung along- 
side, tugs hovered fussily near-by, and groups of 
149 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


active men toiled at capstans, derrick-booms, 
and donkey-engines. 

“It looks like trying to float her before long,” 
Captain Wetherly sung down from the wheel- 
house of the Resolute. “Come up here, Cap- 
tain Bruce. I want to show you something.” 

The master of the Kenilworth mounted the 
ladder with an air of reluctance, for it hurt him 
even to talk about the ship. He looked worn 
and haggard and he could not rid himself of a 
great dread lest the Kenilworth might not be 
floated after all. 

He was cheered, however, by the bouyant con- 
fidence of Captain Jim Wetherly who exclaimed 
with a note of mirth in his voice: 

“There’s a sight to make you rub your eyes, 
Captain Bruce. That is Jerry Pringle’s tug from 
Tampa on the port quarter of the Kenilworth. 
And there he goes up the side. Hooray! see him 
chase that gang of his down the hatch. He is 
surely shoving the job along for all he’s worth. 
That’s his way when he once buckles down to it.” 

“But you were fighting each other alongside 
my ship not long ago. I don’t understand it,” 
commented Captain Bruce. 

I S° 




1 


She looked as if she had laid her bones on the Reef for good and all 




















































THE BROKEN HAWSER 


Captain Jim led the other man out of ear-shot 
of the wheel-house and told him with a grim 
smile : 

“ Jerry Pringle expected to work on this wreck. 
You know that even better than I do. I upset 
some plans of his, and yours. Now he has to do 
the job my way — understand? Do you know 
that I am suspected of plotting with you to put 
this ship on the Reef, Captain Bruce? You 
haven’t heard it from Mr. Prentice? Um-m; 
well, you will hear a whole lot more about it 
from me before this ship of yours slides off 
into deep water.” 

The master of the Kenilworth winced at the 
threatening tone of these words, and his face 
was very red as he tried to bluster it out: 

“ What rot ! That Prentice is a doddering old 
fool. Talking behind my back, is he? Of all 
the wicked, silly nonsense! Well, upon my 
word!” 

“That will do for you,” was Captain Jim’s 
curt reply. “You are going to clear me. I 
kept my mouth shut to shield some innocent 
people, women and children, friends and kin- 
folk of mine — do you see? I expect to give 

151 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


your ship back to you. And you are going to 
do the square thing by me. Think it over and 
think hard.” 

Captain Wetherly faced about and left the 
other gazing with a troubled frown at the Kenil- 
worth. Presently Dan hailed his uncle : 

“Bart Pringle came along with his father, sir. 
I’d like to go aboard the wreck and see him if 
you don’t mind, sir.” 

“Go ahead, Dan. Last time you two lads 
met on that deck you bristled at each other like 
two terrier pups. But I don’t expect to cut his 
dad’s tow-boat in two this trip, so I reckon you’ll 
be glad to see each other.” 

Dan followed Captain Bruce up the steamer’s 
side and found Barton dangling his legs from a 
heap of hatch-covers. 

“Why don’t you get busy? I want you to 
know that I am the real wrecking master of this 
vessel,” cried Dan as he thumped his friend on 
the back with a generous impulse to forgive and 
forget their recent misunderstanding. “I never 
saw a Pringle that was willing to loaf ten seconds 
on a wreck. Gracious, look at your father. 
You can’t see him for dust.” 

* 5 2 


THE BROKEN HAWSER 


Mr. Jeremiah Pringle was, indeed, making 
good his surprising contract with Captain Jim 
Wetherly. He viewed a difficult task of wreck- 
ing as a personal battle between the Reef 
and himself; his brains, brawn, and courage 
matched against the perils of the sea. While 
the boys watched him drive his crew of hardy 
wreckers, Bart remarked: 

“I thought father and Captain Jim were red- 
hot at each other over the Henry Foster business, 
didn’t you ? They must have patched it up all 
right, and that’s enough to show how silly those 
stories were about — about the wreck and Cap- 
tain Jim. Father wouldn’t lend a hand in a 
crooked job for any money. I have been feeling 
meaner than a yellow pup for ever bothering 
my head about those rumors that lugged you 
into the dirty work, Dan. Will you really for- 
give me?” 

“I was mean and nasty to you when the 
Henry Foster was split wide open, so I reckon 
we are quits,” confessed Dan. “Let’s shake 
hands and forget it.” 

“I’d trust you as I would trust my own 
father,” earnestly exclaimed Bart. “Right down 
i53 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


in my heart I would no more dream of your 
being mixed up with a crooked wrecking job 
than I would think of suspecting him. That’s 
as strong as I can put it. You won’t hold it 
out against me any more, will you, honest?” 

Jeremiah Pringle had come out of a forward 
hold and was making his way aft along the ship’s 
side to release a fouled guy-rope. The boys did 
not see him pass behind them, and as Bart 
waxed earnest his voice carried to his father’s 
ears. The stern-visaged wrecker halted and 
listened with the most intense interest. He 
heard his own son say: 

“Pd trust you as Pd trust my own father. . . . 
That's as strong as I can put it.” 

Jeremiah Pringle had been dealt a blow from 
a quarter so unexpected that he was quite stag- 
gered. Moving stealthily out of sight of the two 
lads, he went about his duty but his mind was 
painfully active with emotions which were as 
novel as they were disturbing. 

It had never before occurred to him that his 
boy’s life was anywhere linked with his own. 
He did not intend to set him a bad example, nor 
bring disgrace on the name he bore. But now 
*54 


THE BROKEN HAWSER 


Barton had accused and condemned him, not 
by doubting but by believing in him. It was 
brought home to him from a clear sky that his 
son was shaping his own course by what he 
believed his father to be. As Jeremiah Pringle 
sweated through the long day, he sullenly 
reflected : 

“I can’t argue it out with the fool boy. And 
what get’s under my skin, too, is the way Dan 
Frazier has handled himself since that night 
in Pensacola. He must have got wind of the 
Kenilworth job then. I hate to be under obliga- 
tions to anybody, and Jim Wetherly and that 
boy have been keeping it all back from my boy. 
Why? So Barton wouldn’t be ashamed of his 
daddy. That’s a cheerful notion to take to bed 
with me.” 

He had begun to feel that it might be unfair to 
his son’s faith in him to engage in any more 
shady wrecking operations, and he was nearer 
being ashamed of himself than he had been in 
many years. It seemed as if Captain Jim Weth- 
erly read his thoughts, for he halted him next 
day long enough to say: 

“You have taken hold in great shape. It 
i55 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


helps square matters, Jerry. It is your duty to 
get this ship off the Reef ; you know that. And 
you will never be able to look that boy of yours 
in the eye until the Kenilworth is towed into port 
and made ready for sea again.” 

Mr. Pringle was in no mood to have his sins 
or his duty flung in his teeth, and he retorted 
savagely : 

“ Don’t preach at me, Jim Wetherly. I break 
even with you by helping you get this vessel 
afloat. And I won’t make you pay for smash- 
ing the Henry Foster. That squares all debts 
between us.” 

Meanwhile Dan and Barton had explored the 
Kenilworth from end to end, Dan telling at 
great length the story of his imprisonment among 
the cargo in the hold. When he came to the 
chapter dealing with the visit of the Bahama 
wreckers, he hurried Bart to the spot where he 
had found the lighted fuse and sack of powder. 
Alas, even the fragments of the fuse had been 
swept away in the task of lightering the cargo. 
Dan headed for the nearest hatchway to search 
for the powder. The compartment into which 
he had thrown it was cleared of water, the 
156 


THE BROKEN HAWSER 


debris shovelled out, and the shattered bottom 
plates covered deep with cement and timber 
bracing. 

“Our wreckers didn’t find the powder bag, 
or Captain Jim would have told me,” mourned 
Dan. “The canvas may have ripped open or 
rotted where it fell. You believe it all, don’t you, 
Bart? But that hatchet-faced old Prentice as 
much as called me a liar. And I won’t be happy 
till I can make him take it back. He thinks I 
was trying to pull his leg with the explosion 
yarn. Why, I couldn’t have made up a story 
like that in a thousand years.” 

“Don’t you care. Of course it’s true. And 
it was splendid. I am certainly proud of 
you,” declared Bart who was anxious to 
make amends for the rift in their friendship. 
“You and I will back old Prentice into a 
corner first chance we get and make him 
apologize — won’t we?” 

The underwriters’ agent came on board two 
days later and had a long interview with Cap- 
tain Jim behind the locked door of the chart- 
room, after which Captain Bruce and Jeremiah 
Pringle were singly summoned for more mys- 
i57 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


terious conferences. But no attention was paid 
to Dan who felt that he moved in a cloud of sus- 
picion and dismally reflected: 

“Old Prentice has set me down as a liar and 
won’t even give me a chance to deny it. I wish 
I could have kept that fuse to hitch to his coat- 
tails. I won’t save another ship for him, — that’s 
one thing sure.” 

At length the day came when Captain Jim 
Wetherly announced that he intended pulling 
on the stranded steamer with all four tugs at 
high water in the afternoon. They might not be 
able to start her, but it was worth trying, for the 
spell of fair weather could not be expected to 
last much longer. Dan was still grumbling to 
himself as he went off to the Resolute which had 
signalled for all hands to return. 

One by one the tugs got into position for a 
“long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together.” 
Captain Wetherly stayed in the Kenilworth to 
direct operations and took his station up in the 
bows. To Jerry Pringle was entrusted the im- 
portant duty of properly making fast the haw- 
sers from the tugs. It amused Captain Jim to 
hear him fiercely shouting orders to the crew of 
158 


THE BROKEN HAWSER 


the Resolute who glared at their former foeman 
as if they would like to muster a boarding party 
and attack him. 

The men in the yawls and on the rolling decks 
of the tugs worked with more caution than usual. 
They did not mind falling overboard or being 
upset by an obstreperous hawser as part of the 
day’s work. But the dumping overboard of 
damaged cargo, including smashed cases of salt 
meats and other provisions, had lured scores of 
huge sharks which hovered in the clear, green 
depths at the edge of the Reef or rushed to the 
surface at the splash of box or barrel. All hands 
breathed easier when the hawsers had been 
passed aboard without mishap. 

When all was in readiness to begin the tug-of- 
war between the tow-boats and the Reef, Cap- 
tain Wetherly’s nerves were tingling with ex- 
citement. The hour had come to put his faith 
and his works to the crucial test. It meant 
more to him than salvage, for he was also seek- 
ing with might and main to undo a wrong of 
which this ship had been the victim. 

“The old Resolute will pull her heart out be- 
fore she quits,” he muttered. “ I’ve given her 
i59 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


the hardest berth, for she knows we can’t 
afford to lose this ship.” 

Slowly the tugs forged ahead until they were 
straining at their hawsers like a team of well- 
handled horses, each using every bit of its 
strength to the best advantage. Then it was 
“full speed ahead,” and they buckled down to 
their task as if no odds were great enough to 
daunt them, — Resolute , Three Sisters , Fearless , 
and Hercules . Soon the rusty, high-sided Kenil- 
worth was veiled in the black clouds of smoke 
which drifted from their belching funnels. 
Captain Jim moved to leeward to get a clearer 
view and observed that Jeremiah Pringle was 
standing within a few feet of the vibrating steel 
hawser of the Resolute , where it led in over the 
bows of the Kenilworth. 

“That is a brand-new line, but it isn’t healthy 
to get so near it,” he called out. “That tow- 
boat of mine has busted them before this, 
Jerry.” 

“Always bragging of those engines of yours. 
You are as bad as Bill McKnight,” Pringle 
shouted back. 

He looked down at the ponderous steel cable 

160 


THE BROKEN HAWSER 


with a careless laugh. A moment later Captain 
Jim forgot his own warning and ran to the side 
to shout an urgent order to one of the tugs. He 
stood for a few seconds almost on top of the haw- 
ser where it led inboard and was about to retreat 
to his former station when the huge line twanged 
with a rasping note as if its fibres were over- 
strained. He wasted a precious instant in look- 
ing down to find out what the trouble might be, 
heard the steel cable crack and give, tried to flee, 
and caught his toe in a ring-bolt screwed to the 
deck. 

Just then Jerry Pringle lunged forward and 
knocked Captain Jim flat with a sweep of his 
powerful right arm. This deed, done with 
lightning speed and rare presence of mind, suf- 
ficed to put Captain Jim out of harm’s way, but 
it used the precious second of time in which 
Jeremiah Pringle might have saved himself. 

Before Pringle could drop on deck or leap for 
shelter, the hawser snapped in twain with a re- 
port like that of a cannon. The ragged ends 
whizzed through the air with the speed and 
destructiveness of projectiles. One of them 
crashed against a metal stanchion, cut it clean 
161 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


in two, and knocked a pile of timber braces 
in all directions. These obstacles saved Jerry 
Pringle from being sliced in twain, but he was 
swept up in the flying debris and sent spinning 
overboard as if he were a chip caught in a 
tornado. 

The accident happened with such incredi- 
ble swiftness that Captain Wetherly scrambled 
to his feet and stood blinking at the spot from 
which Pringle had vanished as if he were blotted 
out of existence. Then, pulling himself together, 
with a yell of horrified dismay he rushed to the 
side of the ship and stared down into the sea 
which was seething with the foamy wash from 
the screws of the nearest tugs. He saw a black 
object rise to the surface, drift toward the stern, 
and then slowly sink from sight. Running aft 
where the water was clear, he caught a glimpse 
of the body of Jerry Pringle settling toward the 
white coral bottom. 

Two of the tugs were hastily manning boats. 
Captain Jim glanced toward them and knew 
their help would come too late. He thought of 
the sharks which had been flocking around the 
ship. They could not have been driven very 

162 


THE BROKEN HAWSER 


far away by the tumult of the tugs. While he 
wavered, Captain Jim said to himself: 

“He didn’t figure on the odds when he bowled 
me out of danger before he tried to save himself. 
Here goes.” 

Springing upon the bulwark, he jumped clear 
and sped downward with feet together and arms 
stretched above his head. It was a thirty-foot 
drop to the water and he shot into it as straight 
and true as a dipsey lead. His impetus carried 
him far down into the cool, green sea and, open- 
ing his eyes, he dimly discerned the shadowy 
form of the man he sought drifting above him. 
As Captain Jim rose he grasped the other by the 
shirt and struck out with his free arm. Pringle 
might be dead for all he knew, but he hung to 
him like a bull-dog, fighting his way upward 
to reach the blessed air and ease his tortured 
lungs 

A boat was pulling madly toward the scene, 
the crew yelling and splashing to hold the sharks 
at bay. Most clamorous of the party was the 
chief engineer of the Resolute who was roaring 
with tears in his eyes: 

“Wow — wow — wow, keep a yellin’, boys. It’s 
163 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


Captain Jim they’re after. Jerry Pringle’s too 
tough for ’em.” 

A black fin skittered past the boat and Bill 
McKnight blazed away at it with a rifle which 
he had caught up on the run. A few more 
desperate strokes and they slackened speed and 
beat the water into foam with the flat of their 
oars. A long, sinister shadow slid swiftly under 
the boat and the men yelled as they saw it veer 
toward the stern of the Kenilworth. But this 
hastening shark had overrun its prey. Captain 
Jim and his burden rose within an oar’s length 
of the yawl and were grasped by a dozen eager 
hands before they could be attacked. 

Dan Frazier was not in the boat. He had 
not recovered his wits until his comrades had 
shoved clear of the Resolute. He stood as if 
paralyzed and watched the rescue. When the 
two dripping figures were hauled into the yawl 
and he saw Captain Jim sit up and shake him- 
self like a retriever, a wordless prayer of thanks- 
giving welled from the depths of his heart. 

Then he saw the boat move toward Jerry 
Pringle’s tug which lay on the other side of the 

Kenilworth , screened from view of the rescue. 

164 


THE BROKEN HAWSER 


Bart had gone on board this tug earlier in the 
day, and Dan felt his knees tremble as he saw 
the body of Jeremiah Pringle hoisted over the 
low bulwark. It seemed an age before the yawl 
returned to the Resolute and Captain Jim leaped 
on deck, followed by the chief engineer. Their 
faces were very solemn and they spoke with 
evident effort: 

“Were — were you too late, Uncle Jim?” 
stammered Dan. 

“Yes, he must have been dead when he struck 
the water,” slowly returned Captain Wetherly. 
“But I’m glad I went after him. He made a 
brave man’s finish. It’s awful tough on Bart, 
but he is standing up under it like a thorough- 
bred. Jerry Pringle staked his life and lost it 
for me.” 

Captain Jim wiped his eyes and coughed. 
Bill McKnight ventured to say to Dan: 

“He’d have done the same trick to save one 
of his own deck-hands. Jerry Pringle was a 
brave and ready man, we all know that. It 
was instinct. He didn’t have time to figure it 
out. But I reckon God Almighty will give him 
plenty of credit and square accounts for what- 
165 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


ever he did wrong. Whew! I can’t realize it 
a little bit.” 

“The tug will take him down to Key West 
right away,” said Captain Jim. “I’m going 
along with Jerry Pringle on his last voyage. 
Want to come, Dan ? It will do Bart a whole 
lot of good to have you as a shipmate and you 
can tell him that his father was a man to be 
proud of. We’ll forget everything that hap- 
pened before to-day. You come aboard the 
Kenilworth with me and I’ll leave orders for 
my men. I’ll have to be back here to-morrow 
if this steamer is to come off the Reef. I have 
a notion that Jerry Pringle was sorry he ever 
helped to put her on there. And from watching 
him lately I believe we couldn’t please him any 
better than by getting the Kenilworth off and 
mending the wrong he planned to do.” 

As they boarded the Kenilworth Captain 
Bruce met them and asked in a voice hoarse 
with emotion: 

“They tell me he has slipped his cable. If 
my ship had not stranded it would not have 
happened.” 

“ What are you going to do about it ? Let me 
166 


THE BROKEN HAWSER 


be accused of helping to wreck your steamer ?” 
sternly replied Captain Wetherly. “ Jeremiah 
Pringle has squared his accounts and made his 
record clean. But how about you?” 


167 


CHAPTER X 


dan’s dreams come true 

The first pull on the stranded steamer had 
been halted by the tragedy of Jeremiah Pringle’s 
heroic death. As soon as possible Captain Jim 
Wetherly hastened back from Key West to the 
Reef and Dan rejoined his shipmates in the 
Resolute. They were very loth to leave the 
widow and the son of the wrecking-master who, 
with all his faults, had died as he had lived, un- 
flinching in the face of the perils of the sea. But 
Duty sounded a trumpet-call to save the Kenil- 
worth , and with flags at half-mast the tireless 
tugs again hovered about her under the vigilant 
direction of Captain Wetherly. 

Meanwhile the wreckers had been toiling in 
night and day shifts, taking out more cargo. 
When at length the tugs were summoned for an- 
other titanic tussle, every man felt that the su- 
preme moment was at hand. It was now or 
1 68 


DAN’S DREAMS COME TRUE 


never. Captain Wetherly voiced the feelings of 
all with passionate energy: 

“She has got to go. That’s all there is to it.” 

The tugs had been pulling a scant hour when 
Captain Jim felt the keel of the Kenilworth grind 
on the coral bottom. It was no more than a 
slight shock which made the ship tremble as if 
she felt a thrill of returning life and freedom. 
Then she hung fast for a long time, moved again, 
and perceptibly righted herself. Another inter- 
val of futile effort, and at last the steamer slid 
forward with a dull, harsh roar as her broken 
keel ripped through the coral and ploughed 
slowly down the sloping shelf into the deep water 
on the landward side of the Reef. 

The frantic tugs behaved as if they could 
not believe the Kenilworth was actually afloat. 
They refused to stop pulling with might and 
main until their prize was trailing after them 
down the fairway of the Hawk Channel. Their 
whistles bellowed jubilation while Captain Jim 
signalled the Resolute : 

“Keep her going for Key West.” 

The panting tugs led the sluggish, battered 

steamer out through the nearest gap in the Reef, 
169 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


and she rolled solemnly in the swells of the open 
sea where she belonged. Captain Bruce was 
pacing the bridge of his ship, nervous, absorbed 
in his own thoughts, and oblivious of the general 
rejoicing. Above the stern of the Kenilworth 
the British ensign still flew at half-mast and 
served to recall a tragedy which Captain Bruce 
wanted to forget. His partnership with Jerry 
Pringle had been ill-fated from the start. In 
a flash of splendid manliness Pringle had given 
his life to save the man who had smashed the 
evil partnership. And was he, Malcolm Bruce, 
ship-master, willing to let this Jim Wetherly 
stand accused of the crime planned in Pensacola 
harbor ? No, he had not come to such depths of 
degradation as this. He had fought it out with 
himself and he was ready to take the conse- 
quences. Dan Frazier came on board the Kenil- 
worth for orders when the tugs slackened way to 
shift their hawsers, and Captain Bruce beckoned 
him to a corner of the bridge where Captain 
Wetherly was standing. The haggard ship- 
master placed his hand on the lad’s shoulder as 
he began to speak: 

“I want Dan to hear what I have to say, Cap- 
170 


DAN’S DREAMS COME TRUE 


tain Wetherly. He came aboard my ship when 
she went on the Reef and refused to believe the 
worst of me, though he knew it all the time. I 
abandoned the ship and left him on board in- 
stead of sticking by her as I honestly intended to 
do. But I see now that my will had been under- 
mined. There was a rotten spot in my heart.” 

“ You didn’t mean to abandon me, sir,” spoke 
up Dan. “I never held that against you.” 

“I am glad you have a decent word for me,” 
replied Captain Bruce with the shadow of a 
smile. “The long and short of it is that I am 
going to make a clean breast of it to the under- 
writers’ agent, Mr. Prentice, when we get to 
Key West. It seems to be the only way to clear 
you, Captain Wetherly. Of course I never 
dreamed that circumstances could be twisted 
about to fetch you into this miserable business. 
But Pringle has gone, and I am not quite enough 
of a cur to dodge my share of the punishment. I 
make no defence, but my record was fairly clean 
until — well, you know when. My owners are 
shrewd, tricky, close-fisted men who got me into 
their way of doing business a little at a time. 
My ideas of right and wrong were warped by 
171 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


degrees. Men don’t go bad all at once, Dan. 
Don’t ever forget that. A ship’s timbers don’t 
rot overnight and let her founder in the gale that 
tests her strength. The first speck of rot is almost 
too small to see, but it grows. At last these peo- 
ple had me fit for their work, and three voyages 
ago they put it at me that there would be no great 
sorrow if the Kenilworth met disaster. I should 
have quit them on the spot, but I took the temp- 
tation to sea with me. And in the next voyage 
I ran afoul of Jeremiah Pringle in Pensacola. 
He found me willing to listen. Five years ago 
I would have kicked him out of my cabin. You 
know the rest of it. Ten thousand dollars was 
the price if he could have the vessel to wreck. 
And my owners were ready to give me a bigger, 
newer ship if I lost her for the insurance. But 
you spoiled all that, and I am glad you did. I 
seem to have been a weak-kneed kind of a 
rascal.” 

“Bully for you,” cried Captain Jim. “Shake 
hands on it. Dan here was sure you were sorry 
you ever got into this mess, the first time he met 
you. But this is mighty serious business for 

you, Captain Bruce. The underwriters will 
172 


DAN’S DREAMS COME TRUE 


make an example of you, as sure as guns. Are 
you going back to England to face the music?” 

“It means that I am in disgrace and will com- 
mand no more ships, I suppose,” was the reply. 
“And I suppose it means a dose of prison, but 
I don’t mean to veer from the course I have 
charted. There isn’t any other way out of it. 
I would rather be dead along with Jerry Pringle 
than to go on hating myself and living in a hell 
of my own making.” 

“I reckon you are right,” said Captain Jim 
after a long silence. “It pays to go straight, 
and every man must work out his own salva- 
tion.” 

“Anyhow, you would feel a heap worse if your 
ship had gone to pieces,” Dan ventured to sug- 
gest in his effort to find a ray of sunshine in the 
cloud. 

“Right you are, my lad. It has been a great 
fight, and a man couldn’t work alongside this 
uncle of yours very long without wanting to live 
straight and clean. You helped save the Kenil- 
worth , Dan. I haven’t forgotten that.” 

“But you can’t square me with old man Pren- 
tice,” sadly returned Dan. “I think it’s great of 
i73 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


you to stand by Captain Jim, but it doesn’t help 
my case. I am still left high and dry as a liar.” 

“Things will straighten themselves out now. 
Don’t worry,” smiled Captain Bruce. “Mr. 
Prentice will be easier to handle after he knows 
the facts in my case.” 

“How about salvage? Don’t I come in on 
that?” anxiously asked Dan who was not old 
enough to appreciate the sacrifice involved in 
Captain Bruce’s confession. 

“I expect to be paid my towing and wrecking 
bill to cover my time and expenses,” said Cap- 
tain Jim. “But I don’t want any more salvage 
than that. I won’t take blood-money, not even 
from the pockets of those scoundrelly owners of 
yours, Captain Bruce. They won’t be able to 
collect a cent of insurance after you make your 
statement, and the repairs will cost them a small 
fortune. The underwriters will make it hot 
enough for them. Trust Prentice for that.” 

Dan raised his voice in most lugubrious ac- 
cents: 

“But won’t there be any salvage for me after 
all I went through in this beastly ship ? Why, 
I have been expecting to get rich from it, to go 
i74 


DAN’S DREAMS COME TRUE 


North to school and college with Bart, and buy a 
bigger yacht, and give mother a spree in New 
York and — and all I get is to be called a liar by 
old man Prentice.” 

Dan’s disappointment was so keen that Cap- 
tain Jim hastened to console him. “I kind of 
overlooked your case. Sure enough, I’ve robbed 
you of your rights, haven’t I ? I suppose if you 
could go North to school, you and your mother 
would feel that you had your share of salvage, 
wouldn’t you?” 

“Yes, indeed. That would clear up the ac- 
count in great shape,” cried Dan. “But where 
is the money coming from ? You can’t charge it 
up against the Kenilworth’s owners, can you?” 

“Well, if those Bahama niggers had blown up 
the steamer, the owners’ bills might be a good 
deal bigger,” smiled his uncle. “Just let your 
salvage claim rest for a day or so. I promise 
you it will be worked out somehow.” 

Early in the morning the Kenilworth moved 
slowly to an anchorage in the inner harbor of 
Key West, at last in a friendly haven. Her 
escort of victorious tugs whistled a glad alarm 
as they cast loose and steamed toward their sev- 
i75 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


eral wharves. Dan was on board the Resolute, 
and as she neared the shore he saw his mother 
hastening down to the landing place. 

“You will be all the salvage she wants out of 
this job,” said Captain Jim as Dan waved his 
cap for an answering signal to the fluttering 
handkerchief. A little later mother and son 
walked homeward together and she learned of 
Captain Bruce’s manly decision to make atone- 
ment. Her tender heart was moved with pity 
for his plight and she spoke up impulsively : 

“ I knew there was a great deal of good in him, 
Dan. And think how forlorn and unhappy he 
must feel. He needs friends. Ask him up to 
see us. Iam very sorry for him.” 

“All right, mother. He has shown himself 
to be a pretty good sort of a man, after all. 
How is Bart Pringle? Is he all broken up? 
He’s been on my mind most of the time since I 
went back to the Reef.” 

“It was a dreadful shock to Mary Pringle and 
her boy,” replied Mrs. Frazier. “But they will 
be happy again after a while. Jerry Pringle 
was a hard man, Dan, and he never really knew 
his own family. He was the richest man in Key 
176 


DAN’S DREAMS COME TRUE 


West and of course they have no worries about 
money. They fairly worship his memory be- 
cause he died a hero’s death. But it is as if they 
were admiring some noble character in a book, 
not a real, live man who was a part of their daily 
lives. They never knew him well.” 

“ Perhaps it was all for the best,” sighed Dan. 
“Bart will never know anything else about his 
father and he has a memory to live up to that is a 
better inheritance than all the money that was 
left behind. Oh, but it was worth while fight- 
ing hard to keep the truth from Bart and his 
mother.” 

In the afternoon Dan went back to the Reso- 
lute to invite the chief engineer to supper. Mr. 
McKnight announced as he staggered the boy 
with an affectionate blow between the shoul- 
ders: 

“Old Prentice was aboard looking for you 
not an hour ago, and said he’d come back if he 
didn’t find you at home. I told him that if he 
had a notion of calling you a liar some more, 
I was your proxy and he could say it to me. 
I began to roll up my sleeves and he plumb 

near backed himself overboard.” 

177 


THE WRECKING MASTER 

“I wish he had,” returned Dan. “What on 
earth does he want now ? The Kenilworth affair 
is all cleared up.” 

“Well, he was dying to see you, Dan. Better 
wait aboard. The old icicle will wander back 
after a while. I hear we are going to tow the 
Kenilworth to Jacksonville to be docked for re- 
pairs. Do you know when?” 

“Captain Jim said in about a month,” re- 
plied Dan. “As soon as she can be patched 
up to stand the voyage. But maybe I won’t 
be with you, then. It depends on whether I 
win my salvage case.” 

“Too much sun. Gone a bit queer in the 
head,” murmured Mr. McKnight. “We sur- 
rendered all claim to salvage — you know that. 
It’s an outrage, too. When I was wreckin’ on 
the coast of — Hello, here comes old Prentice 
now.” 

The underwriters’ agent was advancing with 
almost undignified haste, and as he came down 
the gang-plank he extended his hand to Dan 
and exclaimed in most friendly fashion: 

“Delighted to find you, Mr. Frazier. You 
will be good enough to sit down aft with me for 
178 


DAN’S DREAMS COME TRUE 


a few minutes ? I wish to show you a document 
which has just reached me.” 

Brushing past the glowering chief engineer, 
Mr. Prentice fumbled in his breast pocket and 
brought forth a large, official-looking envel- 
ope. His manner was really sheepish as he 
hemmed and hawed, flourished the envelope, 
and said: 

“I wish to offer you an apology, Dan, which 
you are manly enough to accept, I am sure. I 
find myself in — er — a rather painful position. 
The fact of the matter is that I have been guilty 
of an error of judgment. I have in my hands a 
letter sent to me in care of the British consul in 
Key West. Attached to it is an affidavit which 
you may examine at your leisure. To make a 
long story short, these documents come from 
Nassau. While investigating the Kenilworth 
disaster, it occurred to me to make some inqui- 
ries concerning one Hurley, known as “ Black 
Sam,” who had possession of the steamer when 
you were rescued from her. Your story of pre- 
venting an explosion seemed improbable to me, 
partly because I could find no proof, and also 

because I held certain other suspicions, now re- 
179 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


moved, I am glad to say. I made an effort to 
locate this Hurley person. There was not one 
chance in a thousand that he would confirm the 
truth of your story, if found. But, by extraor- 
dinary good luck, he was recently arrested for 
cracking the skull of one of his crew. And while 
in jail he was visited by my agent in Nassau. 
You will be surprised to learn that he readily 
consented to sign an affidavit describing his at- 
tempt to blow up the Kenilworth , and your part 
in the episode. The fellow has a rude sense of 
humor, it appears, and had come to regard it as 
a good deal of a joke on him.” 

“It is great news for me,” exclaimed Dan. 
“I hated to have you think what you did.” 

“I have something more to say,” resumed 
Mr. Prentice with a smile. “ Captain Bruce and 
Captain Wetherly came to see me to-day. It 
was a strange interview, as you may perhaps 
guess. Captain Bruce confessed that he had 
tried to lose his ship on the Reef. My suspi- 
cions were wrong from start to finish, and I have 
apologized to Captain Wetherly. In fact, I seem 
to be a walking apology. But the chapter is 
closed. The steamer is to be made fit for sea by 
180 


DAN’S DREAMS COME TRUE 


her owners, without a penny of cost to the under- 
writers, and her master will go to England to face 
the consequences of his confession. The owners 
will also have to settle for damages to cargo. 
Under the circumstances, I am of the opinion 
that the underwriters are deeply indebted to you 
for preventing the total loss of the Kenilworth. 
They can well afford to do the handsome thing 
by you, my boy, not as salvage, but as a gift, a 
reward for a heroic deed. Such gifts have been 
bestowed on several ship-masters within my rec- 
ollection. Captain Wetherly informs me that 
you are ambitious to get an education. I pledge 
you my personal word that you can count upon 
receiving a sum of several thousand dollars to 
assist that praiseworthy ambition. I expect to 
go to England shortly, and will look after the 
matter myself.” 

While Dan struggled between gratitude and 
amazement to find words to fit the occasion, Mr. 
Prentice patted his shoulder with fatherly af- 
fection and added: 

“I know the story of your loyalty to your 
friend, young Barton Pringle. It seems right 

and proper that you should go away to school 
181 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


together, without a shadow between you any 
longer.” 

Mr. Prentice left the Nassau documents with 
Dan and took his departure, leaving the lad to 
stammer the wonderful tale to Bill McKnight 
who found an outlet for his own emotion by 
announcing: 

“Pm going to hustle right ashore, Dan, and 
hire the Key West brass band to serenade old 
Prentice to-night. I’ve got money in the bank, 
boy, and I’m going to turn it loose.” 

While this rash declaration was being argued, 
Captain Wetherly came aboard and added his 
congratulations to the tumultuous celebration. 
When Mr. McKnight became quieter for lack 
of breath, Dan spoke up with a sudden shock of 
unhappy recollection: 

“But how about Captain Bruce, Uncle Jim? 
It doesn’t seem fair for him to be left all alone to 
go back to England and be in disgrace among 
his own people. Why, if he stands by his guns, 
he will be sent to prison.” 

“I had a long talk with him an hour ago,” 
replied Captain Wetherly. “He can’t be budged 
from his resolution to take all the blame for the 

182 


DAN’S DREAMS COME TRUE 


disaster. And of course his owners will try to 
shift it all onto him and they may be able to clear 
themselves in court. I can’t help admiring his 
pluck. But he may come back here later, Dan. 
I have just landed a big Government contract 
for towing and dredging work, to last for several 
years. And I need more help with the business 
I have now. I asked Captain Bruce to come 
back to Key West when he gets clear of his 
troubles in England. I told him that he would 
1 be with friends here, with folks who believed in 
him. I would trust him as a partner. He will 
never go wrong again.” 

“What did he say?” asked Dan and Bill 
McKnight in the same breath. 

“He was considerably touched. Said he 
would think it over, and thanked me, and went 
off to tell Prentice about it. He will come 
back to work with me some day, I am pretty 
sure.” 

A few weeks later Dan Frazier and Barton 
Pringle were waving their farewells to Key West 
from the deck of a mail steamer, northward 
bound to enter a preparatory school. Their 
mothers were standing together on the wharf 
183 


THE WRECKING MASTER 


and behind them towered the rugged figure of 
Captain Jim Wether ly. As the steamer drew 
away and the last “ good-byes ” were shouted 
across the water, Bart sighed and murmured to 
his friend: 

“ Father ought to be there to see me off. I 
can’t realize it yet, Dan. But I must try to live 
up to the example he set for me. I am so glad 
he and Captain Jim became good friends. It 
was the Kenilworth that brought them together. 
I reckon they were the same breed of men, only 
it took them a long time to find it out.” 

Dan looked across the harbor at the rusty 
Kenilworth which was almost ready to be towed 
away to a dry-dock. The sight of her thrilled 
him with memories of the hardships, dangers, 
and tragedy of the weeks of hard-fought battle 
on the Reef. It came over him that while he 
had won his salvage and his fondest dreams 
were coming true, perhaps Barton Pringle had 
won even richer and more enduring salvage in 
the bright memory of his father’s last deed, a 
memory and an inspiration unmarred by the 
knowledge of anything less worthy. 

“I am proud of Uncle Jim,” said Dan at 

184 


DAN’S DREAMS COME TRUE 


length. “ And you can always be proud of your 
father, Bart.” 

Presently the steamer passed the Resolute 
which lay at her wharf ready for sea. The chief 
engineer hurried into the wheel-house and pulled 
the whistle cord for all he was worth. The tug 
roared a hoarse farewell, and Dan gazed at her 
and the burly figure of Bill McKnight with glad 
affection in his eyes. They stood for something 
worth while to the boy who was leaving his 
shipmates to venture into strange waters and 
chart a new career. He had toiled among men 
who were fitly called “the Resolutes,” and the 
lessons of duty he had learned afloat would not 
be soon forgotten ashore. Dan was thinking 
aloud as he said while he waved his cap at the 
powerful, seagoing tug in which he had played 
his part as a humble deck-hand: 

“I don’t know what this preparatory school 
up north is going to be like, but I reckon if I 
can play the game so the Resolute won’t be 
ashamed of me I’ll come out all right.” 








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BOOKS BY RALPH D. PAINE 


“Will be read with pleasure by the many boys to whom 
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CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, NEW YORK 


BOOKS BY RALPH D. PAINE 


COLLEGE SERIES 

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CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, NEW YORK 

















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